Why are we here? Are ceiling fans the answer to our problems?
I shut off the TV and radio, sit back in my recliner to pause and reflect. Where have I succeeded? Where have I fallen short? Am I lovable? Capable of giving love?
Is my sense of humor appropriate? Sometimes I blurt things out before realizing words hurt. So does a blow gun. Meditation should be part of my evolution.
I have lost my hair, but gained wisdom and ear wax. I feel the impulse to hug someone. Maybe that woman sitting over there alone.
My problem with reflecting is preventing weirdness from taking over. I don't think she wants me to hug her. Instead, I will extract that wax.
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