Trapesoidal Hicktown Chromofusion sounds the name of a genre I resolutely refuse to even merely hypothetically elaborate.
But, oh, for the love of Eck! Genuine. Deliberate. Free.
And...
if I could put
time
in a bottle
the first thing
that I'd like
to do
would be...... well, I guess it wouldn't matter given the end of time at least linguistically implies the end of suffering, and most certainly the end of temporal ordering mattering.
But it's Tuesday, it's early, work and wife and highway noises compete borderline gladiatorial for author attention.
<a work day *not* from heaven later>
Dismal atmospheria, but boss happy with me. Or really upped his disingenuity game.
You know....
I had a thought recently about that old Jim Croce (?) tune... If I thought I could save time in a bottle... I would be demonstrating my poor understanding of physics.
But then if it was a Klein bottle... and the lyrics were written on a Mobius strip....