Eventually something you love is going to be taken
away. And then you will fall to the floor crying. And then, however
much later, it is finally happening to you: you’re falling to
the floor crying thinking, “I am falling to the floor
crying,” but there’s an element of the ridiculous to it
— you knew it would happen and, even worse, while
you’re on the floor crying you look at the place where the
wall meets the floor and you realize you didn’t paint it very
well
