The cycles of life Ė well, almost

Sunday, August 05, 2012


††††††††† I take my laundry up to the top of the hill, one of a number of places called Bubbles, which I always thought of as funny.

††††††††† Itís nice to get back to routine, to think only of how everything will come out in the wash, whether the ink stain on the back pocket of my pants will fade, letting me wear them without shame.

††††††††† The heat gets to me so I stay in the car, sipping water, and foolishly coffee, to wait out the cycles of the machines Ė trying not to think too much about the cycles of life, or anything too serious.

††††††††† Sometimes the only thing I want to think about is the thing that matters least, having the least impact, not global warming or nuclear extinction, or any other brand of extinction I might create for myself.
††††††††† I just want the car air conditioner to work, and the coffee to taste like coffee, a dryer to be ready when the wash cycle is done so I donít have to wait in the heat for the next stage.

††††††††† All changes in life are accompanied with pain, even the small ones, and sometimes itís better not to think too much about them, to let them just happen, to hope that everything you need falls into place so that you donít have to wait in heat.

††††††††† Sometimes, all you really want or need is the routine Ė never having to think too much about any thing except whether you have the right change for the dryer or enough gas in the car to keep the air conditioning running until this cycle ends and you can get onto the next one unscathed.

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