Now, for all intent and purpose ( I think I read that it sang that way some where), our lives mean nothing. Drops in bucket. Why miss a beat? Why mourn a Breeze?
Why anything you do or say affects the matter of things?
Mind you. I haven’t kept an eye on every lake or body of water in years, but I’m sure, with the gracious thanks towards physics, that ripples occur.
That things affect other things.
Remember the Eighties? Those clacking balls on Wannabe Executive’s Desks?
How do people get up in the morning?
I think, “He’s old, She’s Old…”
She smiles and grabs the corner of my shoulder.
He smiles and the shopping cart and drives it towards its harbour.
But she’s 20… in her mind.
She’s a fine young thing.
She’s shopping solo for eggs.
for maybe a piece of chocolate.
she’s shopping on a fixed income.
But she got up at around 8 or 7 am, she showered. She brushed her hair. She stared in the mirror. She asked herself if the slightly cold air had affected the moisture of her skin…
She was confident.
She was on a Mission.
She was Old and Fucking Dying.