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I’m the cling-clang of coins in my pocket, and loose paperclips in a desk drawer. Like lipstick and gum in a lady’s purse, I’m a kid’s toys strewn about on the floor. When I walk my insides rattle about, like a janitor’s keys without his ring, like groceries bagged by junior baggers, I’m jumbled as a cat’s unraveled string. I’m less ordered than a box of Legos, or debris remaining after a storm. Nuts and bolts in an amateur toolbox click-clack and click-clack with even more form. I’m just a package of random loose parts, though the world sees me as perfectly fine. Life is making order of that chaos, but it’s my life and that chaos is mine.
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Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 8:40 AM UTC
Ode To The Chaos Of Jumbled Parts
I’m the cling-clang of coins in my pocket, and loose paperclips in a desk drawer. Like lipstick and gum in a lady’s purse, I’m a kid’s toys strewn about on the floor. When I walk my insides rattle about, like a janitor’s keys without his ring, like groceries bagged by junior baggers, I’m jumbled as a cat’s unraveled string. I’m less ordered than a box of Legos, or debris remaining after a storm. Nuts and bolts in an amateur toolbox click-clack and click-clack with even more form. I’m just a package of random loose parts, though the world sees me as perfectly fine. Life is making order of that chaos, but it’s my life and that chaos is mine.
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Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 8:40 AM UTC
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