The Anniversary of Memories

reality worst game everToday is the anniversary of something that is now nothing more than a memory, which makes it doubly sad that my subconscious decided to torture me all night long reminding me of its existence/occurrence/desire to commemorate something better off forgotten.

Of course, I also kept dreaming I was in this murky river filled with hippos and rhinos.

I would get to swimming and forget all about the rhinos and then suddenly this tremendous current would come in and push me deep and backwards and I’d open my eyes and the water was shades of coppers and browns and I’d see all these giant creatures and their open mouths and suddenly realize all the danger I was in.


In real life I’m not in any physical danger (not in any more than anybody else anyway) and so long as the sentimental parts of my brain would allow July 2 to slip by without notice as just another day, I suppose I’m doing fine.

In other news, there really isn’t any other news, so let’s bring it around with Pablo Neruda who said what I’m also trying to say but – par usual – said it better: “Love is short. Forgetting is so long.”

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