tl;dr
Supposedly I'm not supposed to keep forgetting what the world is. What a most fascinating complex weblike contraption of interconnected interrelated intersexed transgendered McSuperSizeWhopper grease-stained babbling vagrant bubbling chickadees and unborn dissidents and stillborn blue placenta strangled sacs and sacks and Nazis and feminazis and she-mullet-donning women and concert ticket giveaways and gilt-framed French art posters and Victoria's Secret models and runways and runaways and early bird specials and stained glass archways and metropolii and unfinished symphonies and THE Unfinished Symphony and romantic trysts and non-sexual oral non-sex in oval offices and sudden infant death and fairy tales and rabbit holes and mallrats and friends-with-benefits and Black Friday and AIDS awareness and protestors and Abercrombie & Fitch catalogs and bourgeois Bohemians and key parties and keggers and red carpet fashionistas and minstrels and troubadours and bayous and swamps and seashell collections and The Monkees TV show and coffee grounds and pirate ships and lucky pennies and pecan pie and domestic violence and Belgian chocolates and low carb diets and Hawaiian pizza and whiskey sours and billboards and thumbtacks and made-for-TV movies and Starbucks and Italian bistros and gift wrap and wedding showers and lap dances and pillowcases and canopies and picture frames and spider veins and rhinoplasty and nature trails and step aerobics and horror movies and poorly manufactured boy bands and girl bands and overspending and mortgages and iodine deficiency syndrome and kwashiorkor and Kurosawa and trashy magazines and Greta Garbo and artificial sweeteners and instant hot cocoa and campfires and waterfalls and anime and violins and senile grandparents and James Bond and Renoir and still life and still lives and iPods and urban legends and amusement parks and the Beatles and bikini waxes and high heeled shoes and weaves and massage therapy and divorce court and Mother Theresa and indie rock and gossip and high speed convertibles and blogs and coconut date rolls and PETA and racketeers and The Bobbsey Twins and autobiographies and similes and wishing wells and Andes mints and family heirlooms and dream interpretations and Freudian thought and diabetes and classic sitcoms and affirmative action and the Peer Gynt suite and detox teas and Star Wars conventions and big time producers and cake decorating classes and hypothyroidism and song lyrics and fansites and park benches and lumber jackets and rendezvous and museums and dual discs and Baroque concertos and oxygen masks and flights of fancy and blank canvases and trash receptacles and hair salons and barbershop quartets and ice cream parlors and caverns and covens and cages and cell phones and laundromats and Alfred Hitchcock and one night stands and French maid costumes and office parties and hierarchies and scholarships and tranquilizers and household cleaners and dog walkers and lawnmowers and moving vans and rainforest destruction and vegans and Christians and hallucinations and placebos and skinny dipping and apparations and nuns and sassy Puerto Rican characters in the latest romantic comedy and women on the subway being anorexic for half a day and summer flings and the Simpsons and adventure films and mountain lions and book reports and wall sconces and vagabonds and blackberry scones and tofu smoothies and undertow and waiting and waiting and waiting and story tellers and French tests and chances of rain and bedsheets and body fat percentages and epic masterpieces and shrines and animal shelters and wine tasting and cranberry pills and Adderall and square dancing and coming out stories and new moons and gymbunnies and rose gardens and John Grisham and juniper trees and Monopoly games and soda fountains and sleepwalkers and treasure chests and fool's gold and opulent jewels and focaccia bread and Chinese checkers and hipsters and heart murmurs and IOUs and pumpkin patches and after Christmas specials and submachine guns and trapeze artists and Dostoyevsky and Russian ballet and the Berlin Wall and Madonna and group therapy and rubber sandals and hot plates and marzipan and immunization and hiking in the Catskills and potstickers and French cuisine and teddy bears and lacy lingerie and spinsters and opera singers and vow renewals and sunporches and checkbooks and chamomile tea and Slim Fast shakes and Lambhorginis and aborigines and telepathy and staring contests and telekinesis and Academy Awards and fishnet stockings and stock markets and skyscrapers and antidepressants and sandcastles and ravioli and pie charts and palindromes and cathedrals and monasteries and tornado watches and double chocolate brownies and illegal downloads and mockumentaries and improv classes and starving artists and tampons and Mr. Rogers and great American short stories by John Updike or John Irving or John Americanguy and dilated pupils and styrofoam cups and coloring books and rattling furnaces and roommates and black flies and locusts and protein bars and late night confessions and instant messaging and hypertension and cataracts and Mickey Mouse cartoons and baptism and frostbite and bee stings and airfare and marching bands and atomic bombs and cheerleaders and computer viruses and the Discovery channel and tax forms and storm cellars and M&Ms and the Golden Gate Bridge and Judy Garland and hula hoops and hazelnut cappuccinos and hailstorms and maelstroms and baristas and translucent scars and starry skies around my eyes and the songs left behind and not knowing anymore.