It is an odd relationship you and
I have. It is one-sided to say the
least. You have sat there over the years
reading my thoughts, as different and sometimes strange as they are, yet I know
nothing of you.
For example, I have no idea
exactly where you are at present. Are
you in a different country than mine, are you on a hard chair or comfy soft
cushion? Maybe you are standing, reading
this on your phone, as you travel to someplace else, one hand holding onto an
overhead strap or maybe a rail, while other passengers hang onto the same
rail. Possibly one of them reading over
your shoulder. Kind of snoopy if you ask
me. How do they know this isn’t private? Hey!
You, stop reading this.
What kind of food do you have for
dinner, and do you wrinkle your nose at the stuff you don’t like? Do you just move the creepy things around on
your plate, making it look like you did your best, like you did when you were young? Do you watch television or read the
newspaper? Then again, if you’re like
me, you don’t want to know. It’s all so
depressing and knowing any of it isn’t going to make anything better. Trust me, you’re better off just reading this
gibberish.
Anyway, this is just me, stopping
by to say, “Hi.”
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