For hours it seems, I stare at my computer screen, willing myself to give my will over to the Unknown Forces that control the world and the internet. I can’t stomach “submit”-ing today. If I just submit, I will be allowed into this or that site, given the keys to the kingdom. I know: The word is only a word. But then it becomes more than a word. More than a simple meaning.
Submitting feels inevitable, but pride is a strong, steady force. So I’m left in a silent standoff, between my self, my ego and the Unfeeling Thing Out There Waiting for Me to Submit. It’s an unbalanced scale; it doesn’t care, but I do. He didn’t care, but I did. For one more day, I’m holding out.
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October 13, 2008 at 8:06 pm
Debbie Wyatt
Grazzhops are crazy. I was once no higher than one. TImes have changed, G.
I never submit, but I understand waht you are speaking about.. Do you go to the same place I go to to get your mistical bananas? Poetic, when you think about smit.
We should start a band.