I don’t know why
I’m always
forgetting the land
that time forgot.
***
It seems like
something I would
be interested in.
***
But — I forget. And
then a friend will
remind me that it’s
only about a mile from
my apartment building.
***
“Oh yeh,” I’ll say, as
we drive past the exit,
suddenly remembering
… the land.
.
Are you time?
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That’s pretty good, Steve. Thanks for reading.
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Thank you for sharing. It’s a lot of fun
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The land that time forgot can’t be forgotten because it’s no-man’s land, and therefore no man has been there to see it. Therefore, what hasn’t been seen cannot be forgotten because no memory of it ever existed in the first place.
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Well, it is very exclusive but they do take walk-ins. Thanks, David
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Dude, I know exactly what you mean about the… the, uhm…. What was it again?
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Maybe we’d remember more things if we went back to tying strings around our fingers. Thanks, Jimmy
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Best not drive there. Forgetting where you parked your car in the land that time forgot. That’s a tragi-comedy for sure.
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Time has existed since itself immemorial. If it forgets a land or two, I think it can be forgiven. Thanks, Pam.
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I was about to comment and then forgot what I read about forgetting! :D
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I’m drawing a blank too as to why I am responding to this — except that I somehow feel impelled to. Thanks, mm!
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I forget why I laughed when I read whatever it was.
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I’ll accept that laugh, anyway. Thanks, E Sum
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Remind me, what laugh was that?
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Granted it was more of a cough than a laugh, but I’ll take that, too.
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Guffaw!
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La Brea Tar Pits? :)
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A little more West toward Pomona. Thanks, Ilsa!
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I forget everything: the land, the time, the exit, your friend, and even your apartment building. It is like I was never even there.
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Good idea. And since we’re forgetting things, forget that five dollars I owe you. Thanks, Geoff.
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I thought it was ten!
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No I am pretty sure it was $2.50, as I previously stated.
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If time only had a brain…. :(
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I know a wizard who may be able to help him! Thanks, Nancy
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oh yeah! lol!
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Thanks, mk!!
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my pleasure, george!
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Dunno what your problem is, Geo. My ERB sat nav gets me there every time. My problems is that you never know how long you’ve been there.
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The best trick is to always be ticking off the seconds: “One one-thousand, two two-thousand,” &c. And if you forget where you are in the count, just start over — as many times as necessary. Thanks, Bruce.
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And here you are, reminding me about the farm behind my home because I never look out the window, lol. Lovely as always, my friend! xxxxx
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In all my years in Los Angeles, I never had a view—just a wall or the window of the apartment across from me. I remember my grandparents handled a poor view by letting the bushes in their front yard grow so high, thick and dense that, as a little kid, it felt to me, whenever I looked out, as if they lived in the deepest jungles of South San Francisco. Sun would somehow manage to seep in, but nothing of the street could be seen. I am forever hopeful of having a nice view one day. And I would definitely settle for the view of a farm. Thanks, Jean!
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Poetic!
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Thanks, Janny!
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Try putting some dirt in your shirt pocket.
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Hah! I will do that. Thanks, Tref
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Lol bad memory? X
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No, Carol, I don’t think so. It’s just something about that land …
And thanks!
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