The art of losing isn't hard to master

I lose things all the time: keys, sunglasses, wristwatches, telephone numbers, et cetera. I don't know why any one loss should bother me more than others, but the loss of innnocence (or perhaps more appropriately at my age the loss of ignorance) is every time a shuddering one. If everyone always spoke truth, this wouldn't be so hard.

Confidential to monkeyface: your lie reflects my lie. Let's embrace it, or get a new blasted hobby.