My neighbor has a goose. It strikes me that it must mean something. I must write something about this strange pet. But nothing comes to mind other than city regulations on pets. Ought that mean something? Show something about my inner self? Perhaps it says I follow the rules too much. But I thought I liked to break rules. Rules, or rather customs are cumbersome. I don’t like customs. They confine, inhibit creative thought. I don’t like the conventional. I want something unique and different. Something from the heart, not from the brain.
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