i just want to be one thing, a blade of grass, a ballpoint pen, a cup of water, but the fact of the matter is that i am a reaction to every single particle of matter in the universe. i am a sloth, i am a slug, i am a part of this hill until i am compelled to move. you are a huge part of me, i do not know you, and you hate me. i am not fond of you either. do you think i am pretty? do you like my knees? very very very, but these things aren't myself. i think about my death a lot, how my body would decay, and how a family of worms would find a home in my eye sockets, and it's all for the better because the mother worm would say "don't touch that" and "i love you so much" and "wait til your father gets home." and that is what they would do. and they would become me.
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