This Sunday, I used a bamboo pole (borrowed from the Greenhouse) to knock seed-pods down from the wisteria vines on the Parrish arch. I did it at dusk on Sunday, because I knew that Public Safety probably wouldn't understand, so I didn't want them to come by and see me. I wasn't harming the vines at all, though!
But if you feel worried about getting caught doing something, then you probably shouldn't be doing it. I'm sorry.
But I have the most beautiful round seeds now, which will grow into the most beautiful twisting-strong vines. And you know what else: I really enjoyed standing there in the cold air with my bamboo pole and knocking down the furry little fruits.
I actually found it whilst looking for images of meat-rabbit production (don't ask). Unfortunately the link to the actual page was dead, so I don't know where exactly it came from, but I'm guessing Greek pot.
Thank you for not thinking I'm a bad person. It is a very small sin, in the vast and multifaceted world of sins; if nothing else it was a sin committed out of love, its status defined only by those who might observe it and grow angry.
I am endlessly amused by my own reflection. Give me a mirror and I will spend hours talking to it and making faces and just in general messing around. I have been known in the past to have conversations with the mirror and giggle madly to myself. Ask the bathroom mates about it sometime.
I think that you become an adult when you stop walking on grass. Kids, they run and play everywhere, jump and dance and roll and be silly, total disregard. Adults, they walk in a straight line, upright, tense, follow the rules. The feeling of grass, soft and springy and bouncy and fun. The feeling of concrete, pounding, grinding, always need to be going somewhere, going going gotta get there don't stop this is life in the rat race.... This doesn't mean that adults don't walk on grass. It means that the adults who do are children at heart, at least for that moment. I walked on grass today. It felt good.
Wow, I'm really tired. Sorry for the ungrammatical ramblings.
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everybody else will know who i am; i'm not sure that you will. ask me if you don't know.
you didn't take me up on my offer, but i think you just might understand anyway. let me know if i shouldn't friend you.
peace.
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But if you feel worried about getting caught doing something, then you probably shouldn't be doing it. I'm sorry.
But I have the most beautiful round seeds now, which will grow into the most beautiful twisting-strong vines. And you know what else: I really enjoyed standing there in the cold air with my bamboo pole and knocking down the furry little fruits.
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and you're not a bad person.
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I actually found it whilst looking for images of meat-rabbit production (don't ask). Unfortunately the link to the actual page was dead, so I don't know where exactly it came from, but I'm guessing Greek pot.
Thank you for not thinking I'm a bad person. It is a very small sin, in the vast and multifaceted world of sins; if nothing else it was a sin committed out of love, its status defined only by those who might observe it and grow angry.
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Not that I'm crazy or anything...>.>
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Kids, they run and play everywhere, jump and dance and roll and be silly, total disregard. Adults, they walk in a straight line, upright, tense, follow the rules. The feeling of grass, soft and springy and bouncy and fun. The feeling of concrete, pounding, grinding, always need to be going somewhere, going going gotta get there don't stop this is life in the rat race....
This doesn't mean that adults don't walk on grass. It means that the adults who do are children at heart, at least for that moment.
I walked on grass today. It felt good.
Wow, I'm really tired. Sorry for the ungrammatical ramblings.
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