I don’t want to tell you you don’t know waiting. I’m sure you have sat in your car behind an accident. The radio being the useless automate that it is. Your back sweating and you swear the seat had more cushion this morning.
Or silently hiding your disdain for the quaint old woman in line, pushing through coupons and a check book. A check book ferchrissake! You shift quietly from foot to foot, turn your head in hopes of finding another sane person that understands this lady is a pain.
But no one is there behind you. And you are there waiting.
So you think you get it.
Sitting for long periods of time allows one to focus and hyperfocus on the innate objects surround oneself. Like the chair. The single useful apparattus that monkeys haven’t yet discovered. It truly puts us above most of the ground dwellers.
This model I am still sitting on is the Streonosit MP-192. It is a mild upgrade from the MP-191. Both of the arm pads are different colors.
But this chair and the four by ten foot room, if you want to call it a room, is all the objects left i have to describe.
I could start in myself. I could describe the hop-scotch stitches scar across my left shoulder. Or my two childhood cats, Freakles and Eggs. But they are gone. Our house, everything that i can remember about my childhood is gone.
Three small pipes clamped with gunpower and an ignition switch had show to that. everything. we had natural gas. the only family in the neighborhood with gas. and so when of the the random pipe bombs starting firing the in the golden path neighborhood, our house went with them.