A women I often see in Starbucks told another woman I often see in Starbucks about my book.
Wow, that sentence really sucks.
Take two: Two women I see often in Starbucks were talking about my book.
One of them just asked me….wait…now it seems like I walked into Starbucks and these two chicks were sitting there with espressos, chatting about my book. Which isn’t what happened, but, whatever.
Oh, by the way, it’s “espresso”. Do you see a goddamn “x” in that word? No. You don’t. So, for the love of all things holy, stop saying expresso. Thank you.
Anyway…One of them just asked me, “So, what’s the purpose of fruit flies?”
She wasn’t inquiring about why my book exists. For that, I would have smacked her right in the teeth.
She actually wanted to know about fruit flies in general. As in: if they die so quickly, what’s the point?
It’s really a great question if you think about it.
And the only answer that seemed adequate at the time was, “When I figure out what my purpose is, I’ll get to the fruit flies next.”
But now that I write this, I realize I already know what my purpose is.
My purpose is to live. Live until I no longer live.
Hence, it’s the same for good old fruit flies.
I’m just trying to live as gracefully as they do.
And as you know, it ain’t always easy.
I’m trying though. I’m really trying.
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