What kind of person hits people anyway? I mean really. The offhand and pervasive cruelty of the world is the fuel in my wanna-be-a-recluse george foreman grill.
This is way off course, but I don't think I ever leave a comment here that doesn't fly off on some strange tangent. But you state things so well and completely that there's not much for me to say unless it's random. Cosmically, maybe the people we know are the people we're supposed to know in a destiny sense, and everyone else, all the strangers we pass with minimal interaction, are the ghosts of people who have died but whose bodies are restlessly taking care of the soul's unfinished business in the world. The reason I mention this is that when you have an encounter with someone like the guy in the fitting room, I wonder how he fits into everything else that's going on or maybe he's just a signpost leading you somewhere.
My first thought is that you should've told him to go fuck himself really loudly so that everyone stared at him...but then, I know how easy it is to be completely speechless in that one moment- and of course, how shitty that feels.
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Cosmically, maybe the people we know are the people we're supposed to know in a destiny sense, and everyone else, all the strangers we pass with minimal interaction, are the ghosts of people who have died but whose bodies are restlessly taking care of the soul's unfinished business in the world.
The reason I mention this is that when you have an encounter with someone like the guy in the fitting room, I wonder how he fits into everything else that's going on or maybe he's just a signpost leading you somewhere.
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