The Bob Report (Apples Not Included)

 

Daily Report Number 7

 

Bob heart sad. Bob hold heart.

Headstone marked thoughts trace the silence of your voice. You realize you have lost much of your life to pride, fear, and anger. Bob quiet. You hear your heart in the rolling ivory stones of piano play.[1] Bob hold heart in. Bob not share heart. Come here Bob. Cry on my shoulder. You had forgotten your heart existed. You discover the miracle of knowing another person even if it is only yourself. Bob spill heart unto your shoulder. Strange. The heart spills out a salty, watery solution. No wonder life appears fake even the tears lack substance. Bob share heart.

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[1] Suggest reading “Allegro” by Tomas Tranströmer if the reader would like to hear the piano music as well.

The Bob Report (apples not included)

 Daily Report Number 11

Bob pitches a tent. Next time Bob try an idea or baseball. (groan) Not funny Bob. Your life feels trapped in a pattern of meaning. You have big dreams. Part of this you attribute to your diet. Your diet is also big. Bob point. There is no point. Don’t point Bob! You are stuck living a life you don’t understand. This is fine. You just wish you could find the restroom. Bob read. Bob write. Bob literate. Interestingly, literate and litter sound and look similar. No they don't Bob.