Damn. I had something interesting to write about that I was thinking about on the way in. It’s gone now. I’m so fried. Thoughts are like peas, rattling around in my head, and if I tilt my head to far to one side, they roll out my ears. I swear I must leave a trail of debris wherever I go, little dried-up thoughts, forgotten on the floor. Hiding with the dust bunnies under the bed. Going wherever lost socks go.

One thought on “debris

  1. what’s interesting is when you are sweeping (psychologically speaking) and you run into an old dustball of a thought, and realize its been instrumental in causing recent attitudes, behaviors, or whatever. Food for thought (peas to be exact).

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