Get your head out of the Cat and you might become a Dog and as Time is sand in the hand of a young man who only wants to use that palm to grab ass, use those fingers to count money and so - while widening his palms to get a handfull, wiggling his fingers to count a stack of ones - the grains slip out and fall into a place where retrieval is the only false God as they’ll never come back. The seconds will never return. The ass, and the money? Likely the same fate. Grasp air instead. It’s heavier and you can feel it longer.
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