Thoughts

As I sit here, watching Jamie rinse dishes in a sink that is not her own, thoughts invade, no--permeate my mind. She bends down, lowering the blue light-stricken bowl into the hostile recesses of the dishwasher to await its impending doom of cleansing miracle bubbles. Talking to the dog, I realize that it is not her words that he hears, but merely the possibility of the word "treat" entering the fragile, yet futile conversation. She begins to explain in no certain terms that she cannot simply feed the poor befrazzled canine with the coveted morsels of "mighty meat" that he desires as indicated by the gathering drool forming on the clefts of his tender yet floppy cheek-lips.

Terminating the former discourse of vanity she sits at my side only to chuckle at the disorganized thoughts of the aforementioned paragraph and kisses my upper arm. "You're such a fun writer," she says with eyes lowered and heart aflame with an intense passion that can only be engendered by one madly in love with linguistical genius.

"Why truly, is the sky blue?" I wonder in bewildering yet benign quizzitory. "Is quizzitory a word?" I continue to ponder? Perhaps the world--nay, the english world will never expositate the word quizzitory, yet one must still maintain that expositate is surely never to enter the language, we who are able to read the said gibberish will surely agree upon. "Did the last sentence make sense?" I wonder still--never content with the acceptance of the simple, yet constantly thirsty for true word-knowledge. "Is it acceptable to hyphenate 'word-knowledge'?" I continue to wonder.

When does one draw the line? When did one conclude that the act of drawing a line is sufficient to stop any force of opposition? Is it not simple enough to step over the line drawn. For that reason, I believe we as a people need to forcefully end the practice of drawing lines. Its time to say, "We need to build walls." Look at China. You can't step over great walls. Period, end, dot.