“Basically”, she said, “It’s all in your head.”
“I know, but what isn’t in your head? Everything I think I know is all in my head. My imagination creates everything in my world.”
….and it’s a good thing the street sweeper comes along twice a month to violently brush all the curb dirt out into the street where it doesn’t even have a chance to settle before the next car comes along and sends it right back again to the curb.
Talk about futility.
People do that.
Let me take the focus off of me–I’ll find something about you to pick on, harp over, and I’ll load your back with all my shit. In turn, you can push it all back on me and make yourself feel better. Or we could make it a ‘together project’ and do it to other people all day long and shit on each other later. Let’s keep the dust from settling on us.
Let’s keep futility alive.