the passing of clothing

At some point, the "ripped from the headlines" portion of Law and Order became "Adapted from the news story I read while hung over this morning with a few details changed", but I can't help watching it, like a train wreck. Or maybe it doesn't suck as badly as I thought. One or the other, I imagine. I wonder when to stop watching, like I wonder when to stop wearing.

If you are like me, and you aren't, I hope, you get attached to the clothing you carry and when you throw it away, you remember where you bought it and who you were dating, and that it has either become too frayed to wear or it just has fallen out of favor, fashion, or both.

You never know, the day of, that it is the last day you will wear it, unless you notice or make that tear, or see that fray. Usually, it sits in the closet, goes in a purge (I wish I could say "amphetamine-fueled purge" but it would not be honest)and is gone.

Today, I wanted to be different. I selected a piece of clothing, wore it, and at 6 p.m, in a blaze, I tore it off and flung it on the sidewalk. an hour from now, one can purchase it in a pile of clothes being sold on the street, undoubtedly clothes from a laundromat on the other side of town, and my shirt in the middle, surrounded by rogues.