The Most You Know
A muscle the size of an apple suddenly becoming still can evaporate every single thing. Sometimes I’ll think how the whole wide world could end over something as trivial as my heart stopping to beat. As I imagine sinking towards the ground before my vision disappears my perspective seems dinky.
I’m not sure if my mind tricks me into thinking I know more than I really do, or, if no matter the amount I know, since it’s always the most I know, it feels like a lot. I sure know a lot, I’ll murmur, as I consider the entirety of my thought. It’s the most I know! That’s a lot! I bet my gecko, Pico, thinks he knows a lot too.
He does read Modern Gecko.
And I do too. Recently Modern Gecko ran an interesting piece that says 91% of automobile collisions are caused by gecko error and 92% of geckos polled don’t trust self-driving cars on the desert roads.
Pico is a dolt.