Wednesday, January 25, 2006

For some reason, I felt like I was being ditched. If that was the case, why could it not be such a big deal; could I not just roll off the cart like a dried out, imbalanced turd, from the yank of the already-full wheelbarrow? I wouldn't be missed.

It was then that I realised I truly did care, even if I never knew quite how to emulate "care", nor had I even believed it, myself. It was true, anyway.

Perhaps I'm a stickier turd than I'd figured.

2 Comments:

Blogger CamoBunny said...

i definitely know that feeling. all too well.

there are two kinds of turds in this world: the dried out kind that poof! disintegrate when they hit the ground, and the kind that kids use to leave on people's porches, ablaze in glory, that they may be stomped upon and thus linger and persist in their own special way.

but i see that you already thought of that. for some reason.

1:27 PM  
Blogger CamoBunny said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

11:38 AM  

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