For every 7 bananas I buy, I only remember to eat 5. My general habit is I eat one in the car at some point when they are still relatively solid, and then they start going soft and the edge of bad so I frantically eat 4 in a 12-hour period, before giving up on the last two. The 4 I remember to eat in that wonderful soft sweet state, I always toss my peels in the front yard, to trip up ghosts. But actually my front yard is the historic back yard, and my back yard would’ve been the front yard, back when there was a functioning industry back there, and I’d guess most of the ghosts who might have malevolent feelings about the waywardness of my modern way of living might be coming from back there. So fuck, I just realized I been throwing all my banana peels on the wrong side of the house, on the new-fangled “road” side. That’s how they get us – they build physical infrastructure that obfuscates metaphysical reality, and leave us aching in our ancient heart. Damn.
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