I can’t eat the ends of things. Like hot dogs, I have to chop the ends off. They just look weird. Or eggrolls. I can eat most of one, but as soon as I get through half of it, it starts to look like it’s something else, like it’s a creature that’s excreting something and I just can’t finish. And I can’t eat egg whites, only the yolks maybe because they stay warm longer.
Sometimes, if I’m eating some and I don’t totally dig it, I’ll make it into an end. By imagining it. Like with a breast of a chicken or something. I feel strange when I eat at people’s houses and they make a wonderful meal and i can’t eat the ends of things.
But I love the crusts on bread. Pizza crusts too.
flyingsquirell
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When I was a kid, around 10 years old, I had quite a few notebooks of diaries. Some of them were shared with my friends. We used to write on one notebook passing one after the other during a class at school. At that time, I remember that I had a lots of questions in my head as a kid. Everything on the earth was mysteries.So naturallly I kept attacking my father with those questions.”why is that?” ….why why why? He used to answer,”Write them down on a notebook, and you will be able to answer yourself when you are older.” I guess now that he was a little bit fed with my chain of questions.But at that time, I thought its wonderful, since I was still naive to believe that being adult means you understand everything perfect! I believed that everything has a sense. Clear!I believed all superhero, Superman, Ultraman, etcetc, right is right, wrong is wrong.and being excited about, one day when I am gonna be a grown up, and understand the whole explanations. So I had some notebooks, which contains those my early questions. One day I came up an idea that I am gonna make a time capsule, and buried them to the earth in our garden, keeping there till Im old enough. Continue reading ‘Time Capsule’
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I was three and a half years old in July 1969. I remember my dad taking me outside at night time, holding me, and pointing to the moon. He was so excited and talking about how “There’s a man up there!” My three-year-old concrete brain didn’t get it, of course, but I think it made an impression on me because of how excited my dad was. I knew it was something big!
Nichol
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After taking simvastatin for a year, I developed short term memory loss, to the extent of being unable to complete my sentences because
grogan
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