My Post Secret Sunday, some blood

Sunday, 10 May 2009

I don’t have secrets. They are an indulgence that can only serve to prevent you from ever holding things you would cherish. Self-flagellation masquerading as safety.

That wasn’t very much fun…

Hmmmm… Well, I donated blood today. Took the older kids so they could see the stick and all. A healthy love of phlebotomy seems a nice cultivar, don’t you think?

My secret—except, as I said, I’ve mentioned it before—is that I don’t feel obligated at all to donate blood. Part of why I do it and did it more often when I was younger is I “secretly” fantasize that whoever gets a dose of my sticky maroon will be rendered stranger; a bit more such as I. One uncia more poetry in the game.

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