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We weren't born with a name, we were given a name. A hedgehog doesn't have a name. It's just a nameless thing with a handful of flesh and skin and a beating heart. A hedgehog doesn't even know it doesn't have a name.
 
 
   
 
Thursday, March 02, 2006
 
Thou base lily-livered knave!

Yikes, the frivolity of our hearts and minds is infinitely astounding. I never cease to amaze myself, and this time I don't mean it in a nice flattering way. When you need to focus your mind on the more pressing tasks at hand, the mind always finds a loophole to lodge itself into and fester there while you wish you could just get your grubby fingers on it and yank it back to reality. Acting dumb and oblivious is quite the option sometimes, but when things start getting a tad bit too obvious to ignore, or on the other hand, when you're being a tad too subtle to be real, is when things start getting awry. Ah how I wish for the simplicity of things, truth be told. Where everything was laid out in the open, and people had broad comprehending minds, myself included, and where you could take everything at face value. Wouldn't that be perfect? Sometimes, I find myself the sneakiest being ever (not literally, I know someone who beats me hands down, he is a total shitepot anyway). Not out of choice, but simply because circumstances leave me with no option otherwise. I'm a tub full of turd, I am. Aie, sneaky bastards are rampant these days.

Methinks I should get back to the tasks at hand before I realise with anxious pitter-patter of the heart that I've run out of precious time, yet again. Or maybe I should take it slow, allow myself to breathe, and while I'm at it, give my heart space to grow. She's never going to blossom the way I suppress her. But hey, it's never easy to let go of something precious, is it? She's safer in the confines of my being, where at least I know I'm the only person capable of hurting her.

 

 
   
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