Declaration of Years
Today I would like to announce to the world that I’m old. I’ve just realized it myself, so I might as well say it out loud and move smartly on. At 77 you’ve used up any time for excuses. You are who you are.
In my favor I still can get out of a chair without using my hands and I lift 8-pound weights. On the other hand I’ve never made anything of myself. Aren’t you supposed to be somebody by now? I know you are.
And I stopped having a curriculum to guide me after my BA.
University of California at Santa Cruz, independent major in Symbolism. Meaning the boggling number of ways humans communicate by inflection. With words, beyond words. I decided it would prove more if I mastered communicating with inflections rather than get a higher degree learning how to talk about communicating with inflections.
To my amazement, I’ve succeeded.
Instead of a curriculum mooted over by scholars I’ve bumbled my own stubborn way along the whole wib-wobbly path. World, I’m 77. All I can do now is show you what I’ve got.
credit: Tipping Point by Sloan Nota, 2023
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