Short eulogies to three items I am getting rid of on every Sunday.
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1.An epic fail in trying to look cool. Dok2 didn’t approve it and I could feel his dissapproval. I would like to think that he already had his mind set in failing me before my verse started. I did pay about $30 something and was attached to the memory of the event, but I should let it go. It will only remind me of the embarrassment that followed the moment of transformation of a dope idea into a dorky gadget.
2. I got it at the closing sales of American apparel retail shops. It was dirt cheap and the fabric was good. I even liked the color, but the neck was too tight...
3. Orphant socks are always hard to get rid of. There must be a gate to a secret dimension inside the washer or dryer, I swear...
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I hated it so much, but I kept it. The alerting red made me irritated whenever I looked at it, not unlike a reminder of maman.
Like a broken radio, it’s a one-way conversation. Can I call it domestic violence?
Did I hold onto it to cherish maman’s unsolicited crooked loved? Or to feed my grudge against her. Whatever it is, I am letting you go now.
Good bye. Perhaps I will miss the attention you begged for, but not really.
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