Is lettuce a green, leafy vegetable?

We learn about ourselves from the company we keep. I don’t keep much. So there I was, getting old, listening to myself think. I congratulated myself on my own ideas. I laughed at my own jokes. Occasionally, I bummed out with nobody bothering me. I began to wonder who I am.

There might be something more than what you see, when you look at me. There might be. But this an exciting age, full of so many facts and ideas. We can prove anything we want. Even that we’re not really here. I’m familiar with the sense of being something. I’ve watched people pound their fists declaring a point, and I’ve known they felt it, too. But I can’t see yesterday’s me today. I can’t be too sure I even was, then.

So I thought I might write about it. About anything, really, that came to mind. To see, as time passed, if words built up into a pile of anything recognizably myself. I wondered if I would be able to read, from yesterday, the words I might use if I spoke again on the question today.

So I have done. And you know? I’m comfortable with how I look. I’m more religious than I thought. I’m less fanciful and funny. Sigh. And I’m clearly concerned for my country. Maybe that’s just loving my kids. But there I am, starting to pile up. I think I’ll have more to say.

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