If I Had Restless Leg Syndrome In Both Legs, Would I Be A Better Runner?

Monday, December 14th, 2020

“How art thou out of breath when thou hast breath to say to me that thou art out of breath?” ~ William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

Temporarily sewn pockets…

I love finding out when a fake pocket is real.

Thought it was for show, but it’s real – look at me, I have so many pockets. Never thought I’d have so many. This whole time it was just a sham sewing job – it looked sewn in, but it wasn’t. It’s a real life pocket and it’s mine!

It sucks when I tear it open and it’s just the other side of my garment…not a real pocket. Then I have to get it sewn. Not fake sewn, but real sewn – not just appearing as such.

Why have a pretend pocket?

And why have a real pocket that’s disguised as being sealed shut? What’s the purpose of that?

Too many people in dressing rooms putting stuff in their pockets while trying clothes on – “So this is how I look with stuff in the pockets?” Then the clothes were discarded with the pockets overflowing and the employees were left emptying them out every night.

“I’m not staying here late one more night unloading these pockets. Fake sew ’em up!”

How in the heck do they ‘sort of’ sew it like that anyway?

“Can you make something look sewn?”

“You mean temporary sewn? Yeah, I can do that.”

What if you were a surgeon and that’s how you stitched people back together again?

“Ok, you have your arm back, but you don’t. It’s just there for looks. Don’t use it as an arm. Just let people look at it as if it is an arm.”

“What pleasure is there in seeing new lands? Or in surveying cities and spots of interest? All your bustle is useless. Do you ask why such flight does not help you? It is because you flee along with yourself. You must lay aside the burdens of the mind; until you do this, no place will satisfy you. […] The person you are matters more than the place to which you go.” ~ Seneca, Letters from a Stoic

A song to start the week: Superwoman by Alicia Keys on Spotify/YouTube.

“When I’m breaking down
And I can’t be found
And I start to get weak
Cause no one knows
Me underneath these clothes
But I can fly
We can fly, ooh…”