Now Playing -
a squeaky kitty.
Now Eating -
hummus with caramelized onions.
Now Feeling -
better. Really.
Now Tweeting
- Melanie
The dream turns, as dreams are wont to do: moving from a children's theatre performance in an empty hall with makeshift props ("Everyone go to their cars and bring back whatever you have.") to moving through the floors and rooms of his house, passing others I do not recognize, conversing about important things.
Should he be buried with his lighter, I ask, knowing I am questioning the person in question.
Why, he asks.
Well, he always carried it; shouldn't it go with him?
He blusters, in his inimitable way: It's just stuff, it's just shit, it's just things.
I know...but sometimes it's easier on those left behind to feel we're sending them off with something...familiar.
Ridiculous, he says. And that is that.
And I wake, with the refrain in my head. It's just stuff, it's just shit, it's just things.
Thank you, I think. I know what's important now. And I know that you knew.
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a very fine cat indeed - Friday, Jan. 17, 2014
happy new year! - Thursday, Jan. 24, 2013
this is where i am - Saturday, Jun. 30, 2012
this is how it is - Friday, Feb. 24, 2012
a very late last year's wrap-up - Wednesday, Jan. 18, 2012
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