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Where do things go when they go missing when they turn up lost  Was it a plot was it a planed covert operation to escape from my sight from my possession Wasn’t I kind enough Didn’t I maintain them well enough Do they feel safe and protected now I wonder Are they  happy now Are they content I know for certain that I am not the least bit happy I am  not at all content I am constantly looking for them anywhere everywhere no matter the time of day or the lateness of the hour  Maybe they have fallen on the floor or are in some dark corner of the room I am wondering  Searching long after they are lost Maybe I’ll stumble across them to-day Maybe Where could they have gone to Why Was I do you suppose careless unthinking not paying them the attention they so deserved This is maddening this is cruel This is the worst form of torture I must bear down I must pay closer attention to what I am doing I have to stop losing things I will stop losing things Maybe



  1. And the solution? Simple…throw everything away. Then forget about it!


  2. Forget…what…?


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