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Saturday, September 13, 2003


I'd rather make a sloppy mess with my food than have to cantankerously manage it inside my mouth. I'd rather stain my brand new shorts and sandals with various colors than have to let go of the overwhelming passion of painting walls for hours on end. I'd rather buzz in too early, incorrectly on Jeopardy, than hear my opponent answer first, whether or not he was right or wrong.

I'd rather spill my emotions than struggle to squeeze them inside bottles, knowing that i'll not only need one (or 6, or 24, or 30) but maybe even more in order to drink them all away.

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