heart of glass

so glass keeps breaking in my hands, and i'm unsure as to what it means (as if it means anything?)
like it's some great foreshadowing to something, as if foreshadowing exists in real life. i think it only does in retrospect, seen in the eyes of one that lived it and can make all the connections that didn't exist before, but that only exist after the fact.
is that what makes those connections powerful?
am i rambling? have i been drinking wine?
yes, yes, and yes....

maybe listening to this heats is getting to me, maybe its gluing together the fragments of my childhood garfield glass, and then having to glue together the fragments of my childhood piggy bank that are getting to me. (not from huffing glue, i'm not from sun valley. can one even huff elmers?)

both i accidentally smashed this year, destroying things ive had since before i can remember. i cant throw the shards away, even though both are actually broken beyond repair. they'll never be intact again.

as if it means anything; searching for meaning in a world without one. le sigh.

in summation, it be rad if everytime i picked up a glass, i didn't half expect it to break in my hand.

update: and a fucking glass broke again in my hand today at work, thats two this week. either i have the pointless super power of breaking glass! or we shouldn't stack the glasses.
also now preparing for the mocking from boss friends, as i was shouting "aw fuck!! i just drunkenly blogged about breaking glass!!!!" and they were like, you have a BLOG?!?!?!?!?! and rolled around on the ground dying of laughter. oh joy.