I don’t know. Objects, bones and stuff.

A thought occurred to me (which is usually how it works).

So, a thought occurred to me when I wore this hoodie – again. Just kinda threw it on. Just kinda casually swung it around my shoulders going to Friday-work needing a little something to cover the maybe-too-open shirt. That I could also just roll up and put on the shelf under the phones. The thought had to do with (pertained to – oooooh! Pertained to): How many times I’ve worn it and how many places it’s been. Watch me get even more profound with an example that’s anything but. See a facebook picture from a year ago – me a year stupider. Wearing it – AND that necklace. Did they get smarter WITH me? Or were they smart all along? Just kinda being there having to sit through what they already knew would happen. (Or is it just an item of clothing? Or is it just a string of beads that’s meant to be put around a human neck?) So, hoodie. The amount of floor-time this hoodie’s had. Or the amount of floors, period.

Picture of me with that stupid fmile and BTW, the necklace. Picture of me with a less-stupid smile and BTW the necklace.

I never thought this way about STUFF before. Touch the diamond ring she wears right now and know it’s been touched/worn by her mother and HER mother. it’s ALMOST creepy. Guess it depends on what you like. The THINGS you like. Like, if you meet a filmmaker who’s lived and filmmade since the Eisensteinian Era, it’s goosebumpy. Or when I see WWII vets. Or certain typewriters.

NOW I realize why women hold onto their elders’ fancy dishware. (But if i get the case of the “dishes” please stop me. Encourage me to go talk to someone!)

I didn’t fight in the second World War, just have gotten a tad less dumb with a hoodie that’s been around to watch.
———–
I’m kind of a slow learner in that it took me until a few years ago to accept or ‘get” that these bones (including teeth) are going to be the same bones I have when I’m old. This skin; this beauty mark. (We all have those smartass friends who’re like “ummmm actually? our cells reproduce at a certain rate so that ummmm by the time so-and-so years go by we’re made of entirely new… matter and ummmm” That’s when I punch ’em in the face. Science is nice ‘n all, but that’s not what I’m talking about.

It’s the same. Same bones, same nose, same core. Only thing that changes over and over is your hair. That’s all very creepy, cool and wonderful. These bones probably know something about me that I won’t know for another 30 years.

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