blather
laundry_day
perfectly_chaotic Genuine expression comes from a place inside oneself in which the ego does not dwell. Once in awhile such places seem easy to find. Yet, somehow getting there often seems less likely than the possibility I will eat a sock for breakfast. If I become frustrated to the point that I give up such quests, trying to gain prizes and save what I love, it becomes clear that I have already eaten a sock.

In fact, I have probably eaten so many socks that one might jump to the conclusion that I enjoy eating my own socks. Yet, that is not quite the case. It depends on how long the sock has been aged on the ground; grimy old stiff socks are much harder to swallow than the fresher, softer socks.
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