6691. RAG AND BONE STATION

RAG AND BONE STATION

Here's what I feel like right now : dark brown, slow,

not very cheerful, sad and not much concerned. Yet,

every little pound of worry hurts my head, from the 

inside out. Like a junkshop, I am crowded with the

cast-offs and the metal things that no one ever wants.

I don't know what to do about this, except to go on.

Others, perhaps, in straits like this, have jumped off

bridges and used their guns. I instead decline that

active form. I remain silent, and away. My door is

closed, and you will not find me at the center. The

time I spend  -  if I spend time  -  will be spent at

the rag and bone station. If you can find it, that's

where I'll be  -  though even I myself do not

yet know of its true location.