- Gave up handsome for handy.
became a jack of all trades instead of a jack dandy.
working with my hands instead of letting arms hang idle.
The character was played put the facade to heavy.
what my past self would tell my self, rotting pages on the shelf.
and here i sit alone on the apex of society grieving its loss. silently.
dog laying on the carpet at my feet, knowing no one else lets her on the carpet.
I could be a better me. I better be. Need to quit smokin (was a g but i began erasing, habitual me)
I gave the dog a bone, now shes back in her bed chewing noisily.
The things that can be built is astounding, what limits our capacity but resources. and reason.
Reasonable and responsible is all I really want to be, yet part of me shuns the stress of responsibility.
But if I'm handy, can't I always get handier. Not getting any prettier, teeth rotting up and down, not for lack of trying with oral hygiene, cursed nicotina making me a monster. but if I get handsomer, I might forget to be handy, dangling arms down the sidewalk instead of a grubby vestige of the late 90's.
We aren't wearing silver suits (yet) but this future they promised us sure is exciting.
From the 60's to now, unfathomable the exponential growth in technologies. Humanity with many hands building against itself. Living entwined in incredible growth, unsustainable unless we make it so.
writing this on an apple the wont rot but rather be recycled... god i wish i could find a better font.
is this how the narrator whispers, I think I saw it once in a novel
im brushing my teeth right now, multi tasking. amazing i can type with my left thumb.
and now i'm having a cigarette because the dog wanted to go out. it's cold.
so silent so deadly sickly sweet, you know my mind made we add the last adjective. My pronoun is now "we", my microbiome and me, losing to plaque and afraid of the plague knowing the build up in those lung quadrants.
so much of me is not me.
so we.
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