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  • Writer's pictureWellington Lambert

My well-fed fat face


My well-fed fat Face

Poop

I have toyed with the challenge of writing my thought of the day…yes, just one, but my internal verbal diarrhea fought against it. I need to write; I need to see what’s in my head on paper. That way I know I exist. So, I will call this section DVD…daily verbal diarrhea. I first put Verbal Diarrhea, but VD was kind of gross…ish. It will follow my dog walk thoughts. The time I let my brain poop out what’s inside…ok that’s even more gross than VD. Once a roommate told me she thought all gay men were fecal minded, but she was bat shit crazy, oh no, there’s the poop reference again, maybe we are, or maybe it's just me...probably.


Walk.


I first thought about how we have lost oral tradition…. Then I was thinking about how losing our oral tradition of passing down stories, myth…information, what we are really losing is our ability to listen. When someone talks, is listening natural, or learned, or both? I love listening to most people, but only when I guide the conversation to something I want to hear. My listening strength is built on storytelling, but I create the narrative in my head. I ask the questions that guide my nosy brain to every detail I can mine out of another brain in close proximity. I love it, but am I listening? I’m not sure.

Then my dog startled a man getting out of a van, we laughed. I stared through the outdoor fence at Henderson Park pool and wondered what the temperature of the water was. I saw a piece of garbage on the ground and convinced myself that if I didn’t pick it up and put it in the garbage something bad would happen. So, I used an empty doggy bag to pick it up and throw it out. I notice a group of preschoolers being walked by two women for a morning outing. They were in a straight line, and I assumed they were going to the pool, they were not. As I walked my dogs across the street, I saw the kids walking across the street to a bus stop. I thought about how much I would hate being the adults responsible for those tiny humans. I stared briefly at my dog wondering, at 13 what it will be like when he dies. I let them sniff a little longer on the way home.

I will change the name to My well-fed fat face…there is a story behind that title…tomorrow?

PS, I try to start my day by saying that I will accept all the challenges of the day with gratitude.

Sounds corny, but it helps to chew off the sharp edges.




End of Walk

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