In which some lost things are found, and others remain

(Livejournal is down today, denial of service.)

I was looking out on the web for something I wrote using a (very) old username.

I didn't find it, but I did find this fragment of a poem...

"the stereo is playing thunderstorms today. (you know what they say,"

The poem was recorded on an automatic submission page, and only the fragment remained. Apparently I knew what they said at one point about that, but I no longer do... I was so much wiser when I was younger and my vision was unclouded by experience.

So in absence of wisdom, we must do with democracy. I advise you to make up your own ending please, and may it please you well to know what they say. I've found that I've never been pleased much by what they say, and what they think, but I am not above parroting the latest pop culture silliness if it serves my ends. I'm sure what you say, and what you think, will please me more.