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January 15, 2004
a puddle...

stepped into a puddle of information the other day. it was a cold and thick one though small. And because my feet are not quite as good at finding out what it all means, the information did not quite make it to my head. I kept walking, slower, one foot seemingly heavier than the other.
Frozen, little puddle of information. Why did I have to step into it?
I wiped my foot on the pavement, tried to get rid of the stuff. Spread the information all over the place, and it just would not go away. Instead it just began to become more and more distorted, stranger, to grow into an even larger puddle... sticky, deep, with strange smells and colors and sounds.
And just as it all was about to cave in, I remembered to remember that I had just stepped into a puddle of information and that if I just kept walking... then...
and so I did... quickly... but in my pocket... there was still some of that sticky stuff, contained into a little object... and I had no idea... I rarely ever do.

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