(no subject)
Abandon will be your first beer, a squeezed lemon wedge inside the empty bottle. Independence will be the moment you realize the only hands reaching out to you belong to clocks. Irony, you will come to understand, will be when you ask your father about those expatriates: who are they & what are they doing here,so far from home, & why would anyone ever leave the place where they were born? Fortune will be every time your father hits All-Fruits on the slot. Innocence will come right after Fortune-every time you say, Let’s quit while we’re ahead,not knowing how far behind you really are.