Dance in the Full Moon

O, the Frailty of Memory

Monday, December 27, 2010

12.27

Eggs make very depressing side dishes.
Eating an egg always makes me think of the future--what happened? Where did that particular egg go wrong?
At what point is a chicken not a chick--when does it become breakfast?

3 comments:

  1. I happen to know that Humpty Dumpty was always very depressed around Easter time, and he was phobic about being boiled alive for EXACTLY three minutes. He may or may not have had recurring nightmares about souffles.

    This is actually a question I can answer, though. An egg is not a chick if it does not get fertilized. That's why it's still an egg. Fruit is kind of the same, when you think about it.

    Lots of things that could grow into bigger things get wasted all the time. Ideas, time, relationships . . . but what I find more depressing are the things that get wasted after they've begun to grow. Those things really could have been something. Eggs, I'm okay with; dead baby chicks-- not okay. Relationships that never happened-- fine. Ones that just die-- not fine. I don't know. I probably shouldn't be reading these at midnight.

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  2. I always get excited when I see eggs on the table. But maybe that's because I really like eating eggs and very seldom do.

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