Even As I Work…
Missed Connections from Manhattan
Even As I Work…
late into the night
I think about you
and everything we missed
It wasn’t meant to be
not then not now not ever
But it was and it is
something I can’t forget
Sleep well, beautiful friend
Her Two Cents
Why is it that some people can leave an indelible mark upon our memory while others vanish into obscurity? What is it about ourselves that we assign such lasting importance and, in some cases, power to those instances from the past? We spend most of our waking moments forgetting (or rather, not recalling) the myriad of people, places, and things from the deep storage of our brain, but all it takes it one subtle hint… and uncontrollably, the memory rushes back faster than the world’s most powerful computer. These are questions that can’t be completely answered with 1s and 0s.
