In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Finite Creatures.”
What age did I realize that I was not infinite. Hm. This could be a post about God, or baby’s cry and change, or simply the “all about me” Miss Piggy Paradigm. I do know this: I am at the age where I don’t have to remember anything. My brain is still on dial-up and I haven’t downloaded the new upgrade.
LIke now, I know that there was a second part to the question and I am doing the mental gymnastics to decide if I want to change windows and go back or if it will ping back on its own because I truly don’t remember what it was and I certainly don’t want to have the stream of consciousness or free associating that is my passion be somehow, yet again disconnected from the pingbackpage, or any page for that matter.
Funny isn’t it how some words sound like what they are? DailyPromt (alarm) Pingback and of course “burp.”
No pictures for this post: pingback practice on purpose. Get my point?