by Philip Norton aka Preachermansays
I’m over here. Somewhere you haven’t thought of yet. I suppose it’s as bad a place as any, since by the definition of my condition, I am somewhere that has escaped your searching and longing and frustrated scrounging. I am lonely. But it is in some ways nicer to be an object of your desire, than one in your possession. And yet, I am concurrently upset at your having managed to have lost me in the first place. I just hope you don’t forget all about me after a few weeks. The weather is dusty.
p.s. check under the sofa stupid