Holding Back Bananas

I don’t hold back. I noticed that about myself a while ago. I’m not sure what the benefit is of holding back. Of course there can be some minor negative consequences to not holding back but they usually involve someone else’s opinion or reaction. They have little to do with me.

On the other hand, I do think holding back could have major negative consequences. I imagine all the experiences and people I may have missed. I could be sitting all alone in a book had I been one to hold back. Besides, what happens to everything you’re holding? It builds armies and ammo and boils and festers like a deep untreated wound.

Of course, Robert would argue that sometimes there’s no real anything to be holding back in the first place so there’s really no reason to wage a full fledge attack on an imaginary predator who just happens to be nearby.

Speaking of arbitrary enemies, how about invisible locks and gates? There was a kid at the garden today asking for a ticket. He was very distraught that his mother wasn’t given a ticket. He felt you had to have one to enter the garden. No amount of persuading could derail his frantic idea that he was being locked out. He needed a ticket.

So his mother found one. I think it was a receipt. Or an old note. I don’t know exactly what it was but she gave him a ticket. Upon receiving it, he instantly calmed down and walked straight ahead down the road as if he hadn’t been able to before.

Invisible enemies behind imaginary gates makes me think handmade could come with made-up, too. Maybe, if you buy something functional it could come with something useless. Maybe the useless part would add a significance that wasn’t there without it. Maybe every garden does need a ticket.

So I started to write a bit of poetry. I have finished half of half of a silk/merino top and I thought maybe I could include some poetry with it. How about this?

I had a big banana, his name was Yellow Bill;
He made it to the pinball game;
But they wouldn’t let him in.
I wondered if they knew him, if they’d seen his great beginnings;
Or if they volunteered ill-will for nothing more than pennies.

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