Wireless Connection

I've already forgotten what seemed so important. I suppose the environment plays a role. Every year has added a decade. Peerless works both ways. I suppose I will find the time to eulogize my adolescent fixations. They will be hobbies. I am no different than every other person who does much for little and keeps the passion close. Like keeping the warmth in a blanket when it's snowing. The warmth leaves, the passion follows. I know this, but I cannot follow it. Like some morality tale punishment, I move in slow motion towards something I want but cannot accept. It's not pointless; it's Pointillism, I am just too short sided to see it. Maybe one day I can take all the advice from the ghosts of voicemails past and do it a fucking solid. This whole noseless visage is wearing thin. People stop caring about missing the point and the silence picks up the slack.

(Laundry) List

I wonder if they will remember me spoiling them. Indulging their little faces with the dim echo of rules and regulations in the back of my mind. The library, our picnics, the those late night slumber parties during the summer of Meatballs, later called feetballs. Tickle tickle feet eating funny faces, funny phases of changing names and silly voices. The fear of being forgotten not enough to stop from living unrehearsed. If I die young(ish) like I hope, I want them to remember all the rules I helped them break and the muffins they helped me bake.

The laundry. For some reason I really enjoy the laundry. How through the years of roommates, I have seen all kinds of clothes. It's a strange way to be a part of someone's life.