51/22: Blankety Blank

Brain gets blanker every day. Soon it will be as smooth as a baby's bottom and I won't remember anything. That might be good. I've had a head full of stuff forever. Perhaps it would be pleasant to feel a fresh breeze blowing through the emptiness for a change. At the moment it just feels like a bunch of disarranged detritus anyway. Like a library after an earthquake. It's almost too much for a guy whose undershirt keeps riding up to deal with. Especially and old guy who could easily dislocate a shoulder by trying to pull it down again and again. Or clean up a ruined library.