Slipping into the Future

Living requires change.  Make whatever excuses are required.  Routine may be comfortable and reassuring, but the consequence is a stolen life.  Before you know it, years pass, doing the same thing, over and over.  Take an hour or so to do it differently.

Sweltering

Rain just makes it hotter when it's already smoldering.  No breeze... there's only humid heat.  Nothing helps.

Even clothes become irritants working in those conditions.  Shedding as much as is prudent barely helps.  When done, getting to the point of feeling clean requires twice as much shower water.  Nature is sticky.

Worst of Both Worlds

 

Free will is the only way for humanity to survive. You can't acquiesce your responsibility without inevitable, severe consequences.  Be terrified of group-think.  You can think for yourself. 

Found and Lost

Remembering something's missing isn't fun.  Especially when you find out by seeing it.  Then, you have to think about when or how you lost it.

All of that's okay, though, if you actually get it back.  Seeing it through the grate at the bottom of an unreachable drain isn't optimal.  Now, a plan has to be made to retrieve it.

Planned

Nobody wins.  Instead, there exist many states of losing.  Eventually, life loses.

Disheveled life trips along until that final stumble from which it never again rises.  No matter how organized or contemplative, the last check goes into the 'L' column.  The best laid plans get buried in the end.

It's All Relative

Some people relate to others in inexplicable ways.  There are those you'd never expect to relate to you that do.  There are those you feel in lockstep with who'd never expect you to relate to them.

I can relate.

Hot Sauce

Hot sauce works well with a lot of things.  It doesn't work well with others.  Still, there are those who put it on everything.

In that respect, what seems logical to one might just be an abomination to another.  Understandable.  Just don't put hot sauce on somebody else's food.

Flackbips

I've never done a backflip.  I don't think I ever will.  I'll still sleep at night.

You deserve a cookie.  At least, that's what the EU says:  Accept the cookie!

Or not.  I never do.  Just ignore the little notice at the bottom of the screen.

Why is it called a cookie?  I'm not going to look it up.  

I lied.

According to the random website I just visited, cookies are called cookies because they carry small bits of text, like a fortune cookie.  Wikipedia disagrees.  It says they're 'magic cookies'.  Whatevs.

Okay.  I'm done.  Goodnight.

I lied again.  I'm getting good at that.  Getting.  That's funny.

Bag Phone

"Did you guys really used to carry around those big ole' bag phones?"

No.  We did not.  We didn't carry phones at all.

We had lives.  We didn't need to be in contact with the whole world at all times.  There were things we needed to do that required our attention.