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Thursday, May 10, 2012
I'm not complaining. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind. I'm of the strong, silent persuasion, anyway. I'm sure I must have mentioned that before. Maybe you just didn't catch it as it sibilantly sailed across the space that lay between us.
I've learned to not expect people to pay me any mind, so I tend to keep my thoughts and stories to myself. Saves embarrassment all around.
On the up side, though, there's this, that people other people do not listen to are listeners themselves, if not by nature, then by nurture. We are the confessors, the confidants, the bearers of secrets, crimes, and deceits.
Once we were the children whose ears the snakes came and cleaned so we could hear. We are the ones who paid attention in school. We heard the lessons the speakers ignored.
Now we leave them scribbled on scraps for others to stumble upon later and wonder at.
It all becomes the same to us as we retreat deeper into our caves.