There is a part of this world - that most of us see everyday - that simply is. It just sits there and exists. It's over in the corner or under the bed. Some have even been foolish enough to sweep it under the rug. That is why when I come to a home for the first time I flip all their rugs over and lick the dust. Then, I spit out these fragments...
The collar on my shirt is a little tattered. You see, I’ve wore this shirt for years.
The skin on my neck is not tough enough to tear up my shirt, but anytime something is used over, and over it will become worn. This is worn - the shirt that is. The funny part is I never really liked this shirt. It’s an ugly color and it fits me terribly. I think, for financial reasons, I am gonna wear the shirt a bit longer.
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