Unusual Raindrops

There are always little bits of oddity that one cannot classify. They don't belong in a category, yet they don't belong in the miscellaneous box, either. What to do with those extreneous, superfluous bits of nothing? Here's a thought: burn them. Pass them through the fire once and twice and thrice when you can. Get rid of the ashes somewhere far away, half a million miles from your heart, and make sure the sky doesn't take them with its sigh.

If you come accross them, let them go far far away. What do you need them for, anyway? If you can't label it, it's probably useless anyway. It's probably not practical enough or you already have too many really important things that resemble the useless one, so it's probably laying around for no reason, taking up space.

It's one of those things that you just stare at for while when you're doign Spring cleaning and deciding what gets tossed out into the middle of goodness-knows-where and what gets lost in the infinite mountain of trash in your basement, attick, garage, or backyard.

But you don't really want to keep these kinds of things. These things are the ones that aren't helpful, don't find a place, and can't be classified. The sad part of it all is that you want to hold on to it for the rest of your life, but can't.

If you have any of these bits of unkown, burn them.

Chances are, if it's unusual, it's priceless. And those memories are the ones that dig a whole in your chest and fill it with bittersweet remorse and useless hypotheticals. So if you find it, forget it, because it's not worth living a life of despair.