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Broken Record

My brother’s like a broken record.  He tells me about how we used to bike around the neighborhood pretending we were race car drivers, and how we’d gained multiple knee scrapes from turning the curb too fast. He’ll tell me this story twice, thrice, or even four times in a row, and laugh about the good ol’ days. I laugh with him, because though he doesn’t remember that he’s already told me this story for the fourth time in a row, he does remember the fun we had. My brother’s like a broken record, but I don’t mind one bit.

Keep it Private


Some things are meant to be shared

Maybe with a few strangers, friends, and family.

But other things are meant to remain private

And are not meant for the whole world to see.


Not everyone needs to know

Every little moment of your life

Whether it’s good or bad

Filled with joy or filled with strife.


Not everyone needs to know

Every thought that comes to your mind

Especially the ones without substance

And the ones that can get you in a bind.


It can be tempting to vent

For the whole world to hear 

But whatever is said in public

Cannot be taken back, I fear.


It can also be tempting

To share a very good moment

But doing it too much may devalue it

And perhaps reduce enjoyment.


Consider those close to you;

Sharing too much can reduce their pleasure.

They also deserve space to enjoy

The happy moments they treasure.


They also deserve space to process

Moments filled with unpleasantness.

The last thing they need is for everyone

To be all up in their business.


Some moments are precious

And must be protected

Like the precious stones

That a miner has collected.


Don’t be hasty to share everything 

With people in person or on the internet

Lest it come back to bite you

Leaving you with pain and regret.

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