_ Funny thing happened this here morning. Out of the blue I had a flashback to a conversation I had with a friend of mine over twenty-five years ago. He was telling me that there were times when he was so hungry as a boy that he would eat paper just to have something in his stomach.
_ It's a lot like falling in love.
_ In what way?
_ The love of one person for another temporarily fills the yawning chasm of a meaningless, solitary existence; it occupies the mind until such time as it doesn't - the paper works in the same way, temporarily filling a void.
_ You're out of line with that one.
_ Dream on. In fact the paper boy is in better shape than the lover because eventually he is going to get some real food. What happens when love runs its course? What goes on the plate then? Anger? Heartache? Isolation? To whom do you turn?
_ Some love lasts forever.
_ Nothing lasts forever.
_ Trust me, I take great solace in that every time I enter into a conversation with you.
_ Paper napkins; paper plates; paper cups... paper boys.
_ Eating paper, just to have something in the belly... Can you imagine?
_ Wake up... it's time.
_ It's time? Time for what? I'm stunned by your remarks.
_ It's a dream; it's all a dream. We need to wake up. Once, twice, a million times; continually. We need to wake up. People are crying out the world over; they're eating paper, for goodness sake!
_ This has to be a dream.
_ Chai?
_ Whatever.
<><><>
... We, to a large extent, are uncomfortable around opinions that stand in opposition to our own; a pond not liking rain.
... There are horrors ongoing in this life. Where?
photo credit
No comments:
Post a Comment