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January 8, 2016

Still can’t get the notion out of my head that everything is happening all at once.

That not only am I perceiving that I am typing this now, but I have always been typing this and reading this.

(Advanced apologies for poor poetry)

Being born and being buried.
Being single and being married.
Being at peace and being harried.

It could be true or just a maybe,
How can I be old and be a baby.

Stretching the imagination has to be far.
How can I be learning to walk when I’m driving a car.

Whether I’m quite at 90, or 2 and hyper.
There are strangers changing my diaper.

Is it funny,  or something to dread,
How can I be living,  if I’m dead?

From → humor, Paradox, random

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