October 21, 2015

The thing is, words we say online are kept by the web, who occasionally flings them back at our faces in unexpected moments. the strangest ones are those we remember deleting. If I wrote you a story, then took it back without consent, did I break a cardinal law of the universe? In giving you words I wrote, did I make us co-custodians? God made the octopus, then told us to take care of it. I’d miss it if He took it back. I’d always thought those words were mine, but I’m thinking again.

I think while sitting on a stone bench watching people and buses at a muted interchange; my tea egg dismally cold. While reflecting on my egg I might have missed my station, but the lady announces serangoon so I’m still en route to cluny court. There, I’ll present white and blue slips of paper, and have my passport returned to me. Possibly eat at adam road after.

More than a year ago, I looked at my phone and typed out goodbye. I have said goodbye again and again, I am saying it still. How long will the silent screen keep my farewells, when return me my words? I never gave them to insentient faces.

2 Responses to “”

  1. debloone Says:

    Wish i could give you a hug as i read this (albeit belatedly)! :(

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