Saturday, August 17, 2013
I remember as a small child eating a hot dog. Every time I bit into the hot dog the "hot dog" would move towards the back of the bun. All I got was a mouthful of bun. I can remember looking up at my parents and probably with a scowl, announced that I could not catch the hot dog. Vivid is the memory of them laughing. Vivid is the memory of my noticing. Vivid is the memory of me smiling.
I felt loved. I felt happy. In the world of objectivity, one exception can disprove a truth. In the world of subjectivity, two annihilate.