
eternity comes and
goes…it is here
and there and
nowhere…it has
nothing to do
with time

the moon’s dark face
is coming to cover the
sun leaving a path
through our soul
too bright to behold




love is a powerful 
Today’s Word of the Day on Dictionary.com, Confabulate, is an interesting word for our times. Basically, it means to talk casually, converse or chat. It originated in 1610’s, from confabulatus, past participle of Latin confabulari “to converse together,” from com- “together” (see com- ) + fabulari “to talk, chat, “from fabula “a tale” (see fable ).
It has a second meaning though, coined in psychological circles in 1924, that has found its way into our current dialog. Wikipedia offers a comprehensive look:
Confabulation is a disturbance of memory, defined as the production of fabricated, distorted, or misinterpreted memories about oneself or the world, without the conscious intention to deceive. Wikipedia goes on to explain, people who confabulate present incorrect memories ranging from “subtle alterations to bizarre fabrications”, and are generally very confident about their recollections, despite contradictory evidence.
There are several theories related to confabulation but one that caught my attention is the theory that proposes that confabulations represent a way for memory-disabled people to maintain their self-identity. And there are a host of disorders associated with frontal lobe injury or disease that present with some of the signs and symptoms associated with confabulation:
Signs and Symptoms of Confabulation:
Of course, there is a distinction between true confabulation and outright lies; that distinction being that the one confabulating truly believes the fabricated story they are telling, sometimes with such conviction that those listening may find themselves wondering if it is not indeed true. This can be problematic if the suffering individual’s illness is left unchecked, (thinking out loud here, confabulating if you will) especially if the individual confabulating is in a position of power or authority. I’ll let that settle with you for a few seconds.
It may be just me, but I am deeply concerned about the state of mind of our current chief executive. He seems to confabulate in waves, with lucid calculated, manipulating speech interspersed. Vulnerable, gullible people who are easily manipulated seem blind to the difference, believing his confabulations over verifiable fact. Believing I say, but what is most disturbing is their veneration of his statements because, they say, “he says what I think”. This realization is the scariest thought of all.
A few haiku for you then. Thanks for joining me for this confabulation on a most interesting word.
people watched aghast
poor confabulating fool
his mind sundowning
the truest old friends
confabulate for hours
words in unison
there is no solace
in confabulated yarns
that never happened
~kat

photo by Cathal Mac an Bheatha via Unsplash
These days you can get pizzas with jalapeño peppers and taco sauce, BBQ chicken, cheeseburgers, pineapples, strawberries and apples, fish, macaroni and cheese, and mashed potatoes on top!
But Louis was a purist; a second generation pizzeria owner who followed his grandmother’s original recipe, and it showed on Friday nights when the locals lined the block waiting hours for a slice of Mama Maria’s traditional pizza pie.
Some people believe tradition is an archaic chain to the past but Mama knew what she was doing when she insisted on strict adherence to the family recipe: dough rolled in cornmeal, brushed with olive oil, fresh tomato sauce, Italian sausage, mozzarella and a sprinkle of her secret herb blend…that smelled a bit like oregano!
😉~kat
A Three Line Tale for Sonya’s challenge inspired by the photo above by Cathal Mac an Bheatha via Unsplash.

Pictured above, my rescue pup, Winston,
who agreed to pose for my story. He’s my
Love Bug.
————————————
Biff was my neighbor’s dog.
They were nice people, but every chance he got, he’d find a way to my front door.
“Come on Biff,” I’d say, scratching his ear, “time to go home.”
One day the neighbors showed up at my door. “We think he’s chosen you.”
Biff is my dog…
~kat
52 Words (exactly) Tale for Sonya’s 52 Weeks 52 Word Challenge. This week’s theme is “The Persistent Dog”.