The Zen of Unsure Things
That's the title of a Stephen King novel--and the script on the concrete are the mute voices of those buried underneath.Shiver.
Yeah baby! Excellent. That's letting your zen shine through.
They LIED to me in kindergarten when they said "this will ALL go on your permanent record young lady!". Bet those records are buried! They couldn't speak of my past...uh-ohhhh
PD - Pasadena Daily....but it's missing the "P" John stole it. He didn't destroy it though. He's hoping for permanency which he believes is it's own reward
It's such a short record, Trish. Hmm, I wonder, PA, about the reward. It's nice to have your own regular place to sit, though.
This reminds me of finding a list while shopping on which someone has written at the bottom, "DO NOT LOSE LIST!" I like Desiree's chilling fantasy....
Oh, I just noticed your new blog title -- good one!
Our reward lies on the threshold of chaotic verdancy and the concrete inevitability of oblivion. An oblivion named John. Or something.
Ms. M, I couldn't figure out how to set a timer for that change.Elaine, why not?
@Petrea---lol! I may be younger than you, but my list is long. ;-)Considering that people from my past keep popping up in the strangest ways, I should be wondering if Mrs Fields or Mrs Fujimoto are looking over my shoulder still from kindergarten!
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