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"At last there is nothing left to say"

Sunday, November 30, 2008

Surprise me. That’s what my imaginary T-shit says. Not “Did it” or “Tony Hillfiber” . . . mine says, if you’re looking at me for a reason, the jokes on you.

The greatest things in life are unexpected. That’s what my imaginary tombstone says.

“It was funny, I thought it was him but it wasn’t. Then later on, lo and behold! There he appeared.” That’s what my friend said. Or something along those lines.

I can’t say that all surprises are the good kind. But in the end (Or just before the end.), isn’t it all good to know?

Discovering . . .

the lack of openness between the door and the frame upon exit time, due to a broken(x2) knob that was once repaired by the rent eater

the sweet hereafter taste of my favourite daily hot drink is now lost to an oversensitive vital organ

an expozine is not limited to zines

the =Big Mouth= book, that for months now has been left unstricken on my GOOD TO READ, HARD TO GET list, is on a table, an arm length away, waiting there for me to take it away to my nook

when enjoying a nice walk under a light snowfall, my vital organ has magically produced symptoms that are quite the drag

just around the corner, a not so majestic 80's style banner sign, heralds some kind of =Solutions To All Your Ailments For A Price= shop (Travel size galore.)

an opus is not my only ticket for a bus ride, thanks to a woman standing in front of me, talking to the ticket master

my wallet is a few bills short of a monthly magnetic transit pass

the bag I am holding contains a few bills worth of zines and one odd book

my habit of reading the last phrase of a book in order to judge it’s buying/borrow value finally pays off:

“And then he died.”


posted by Primessa Espiritu
11:27 pm

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