I don't like doing laundry either, so I don't :D

Laundry's not all that bad. It's the part after laundry that gets to be a bother.

I had a post here but I'll put it up some other time. Instead, I was going to put up a list of first lines of poems never written (such as "The raven caws overhead when she comes"), but my mind spontaneously decided otherwise.

Cliches

From my window I can see a world sole unto me, the greens above and blues below in hues that only I would know, the shards of shadows on the ground about the trees they gather 'round, the rustling sounds of leaves that claw against the eaves and then withdraw, the twitter of the mockingbirds who sing as if they know the words, the ships that sail into ports bring things of many sorts, the pitter-patter of the rain against the double window pane, the trails of dirt they leave behind when the sun would come to mind, the blacks above and grays below in darkness only I would know, the shards of light upon the ground beneath the windows thrown around, the shapes they are and how they go are things that only I would know, and this world sole unto me is what I wish to share with thee.

Tit tat is a similar one. I don't think there is a way to portray the rain that hasn't been done many times before. This doesn't mention it, but it's obvious what it is:

Tit tat pitter pat splish splash river splat. Tit tat pitter pat dit dat window slat. Tit tat pitter pat dith dath woman's hat. Tit tat pitter pat splish splash in my path.

Once

The mildewy decimal system thrust upon him its yellow reminder that the past was never far removed from his current place. And, perhaps, that it left unmistakable stains. He thumbed through a volume he picked because it looked interesting, not the title, but the book itself. It smelled like an old tea bag of tanbark chips floating in a cup of hot water. His fingers avoid the coffee stains. He wondered how long it was since someone last saw the black-and-white photographs. He thumbed through another book and left them unshelved. They had been looked at. And all the beautiful people smiled and the one he loved would cry.

Metaphor. Idiom. Cats and Dogs. It's all the same.

It just dawned upon me that I might have drawn a self-referential Gantt chart for the name theme in the ASC a while ago had I had a different mindset, though would that just be a graph? Would it go further overhead or instantaneously nowhere? Ah well.

L'esprit de l'escalier

I don't know how many know how transparent people are on these forums. It seems altruism has some correlation with innocence.

With that:

We Had Cars

We had cars. They took us places.
We had cars. They moved us around.
We had cars. They brought us away.
We had cars. They brought us back.
We had cars. They moved us forward.
We had cars. They took us places.

I don't know how many know how transparent people are on these forums. It seems altruism has some correlation with innocence.

What is innocence?

What is innocence?

My use of vague words without context strikes again! Innocence as opposition to the pursuit and preservation of identity, self-image, and perception by society, or more approximately the constant pursuit of the idea that one has to be someone. I'm not sure if that makes sense.

I'm not sure if that makes sense.

That's a better definition of innocence than any previous I've seen. Given all I've seen previously are vague stabs at pools of examples.

It makes me think about to what degree one must surrender this innocence to pursue a dream. Because in real life, I am frequently described as an innocent character, but sometimes my study (and the amount of it required) has me lapsing into a philosophical crisis.

Alt: yours is not the rhetoric of innocence :P