the end

nothing lasts forever.
we know that,
and yet we still hope for longevity beyond what's even remotely realistic.
except for the fair.
nobody hopes there's more of that.
yep.
that's real.
the fair gives you eight looong days to do all you want to do,
and then it's a big bye-bye to your face for a whole other 'nother year.
and that's a good thing, neighbors-
this way,
you know you've got to jam all the gluttony you can swallow right down your throat,
and allocate any remaining time for whatever other site-specific splurges,
into animals and rides you're into,
before the carnies and the vendors and the farmers and the churches
all pack up all their sh!t and leave once it's all over and done with,
personally,
i don't much care about most of the the animals,
and i definitely don't go on rides.
i mean, that's what poor people do.
but,
the best falafel around is on the menu every damned day.
that's no joke.
check the grand-finale-type teleport:

yep.
the last two.
really, they were some of the most delicious i've had.
i'll miss 'em, too, for sure......
but i'm als excited to put anything else in my mouth for dinner tonight.
that's NO joke.
i think my organs have been replaced with chick peas,
and my blood is beige and lemony and all tahini'd out.
yikes.
*
so,
it's all over, until next time.
and as far as endings go?
this one was pretty unremarkable.
but afterwards,
the long way home,
and a drive through the darkening deepening woodsly goodness,
and a blast through the past of my pretty companion,
with a couple of stenchy stumps,
and a parental introduction, too?
that's a big deal.
get it?
i met my lady's dad, duders-
huh?
what do you mean 'how'd that go'?
it went well, of course.
i'm a competent and capable communicator after all.
jeez.
have a little faith.
i didn't poop a falafel out in their driveway,
and i didn't mention butts or even use profanity even once.
uh-huh.
i'm not a total A*-hole.
c'mon.
-
it's all really happening around these parts-
the future, which formerly felt like it was racing away from us
far faster than we could maintain pace to keep up,
now seems to be rushing with outstretched arms and open hands
to embrace us in a warm, tight wrapped-up hug of whatever-the F*-comes-next.
that's not so terrible, at all.
this is the way it goes,
and this is what's up right now.
the time we're given is ours to make something out of, right?
we get molehills,
we make mountains,
and that doesn't have to be overblown and disproportionate,
merely magnification of all the minutae,
so that all of it matters the most, all of the time.
i s'pose that's the point;
never quiet, never soft.....