Apr 14, 2009

Thomas Kinkade The Night Before Christmas

never chose anyone," said Om. "They chose themselves."
"If you're it was wicked to ask, but he wanted to know what the memory was. Anyway, could it be wicked? If the God was sitting there talking to you, could you say anything truly wicked?
Face to face? Somehow, that didn't seem so bad as saying something wicked when he was up on a cloud or something.
"As far as I can recall," said Om, "I'd intended to be a big
Thomas Kinkade NASCAR THUNDER
really Om, stop being a tortoise.""I told you, I can't. You think I haven't tried? Three years! Most of that time I thought I was a tortoise.""Then perhaps you were. Maybe you're just a tortoise who thinks he's a god.""Nah. Don't try philosophy again. Start thinking like that and you end up thinking maybe you're just a butterfly dreaming it's a whelk or something. No. One day all I had on my mind was the amount of walking necessary to get to the nearest plant with decent lowgrowing leaves, the next . . . I had all this memory filling up my head. Three years before the shell. No, don't you tell me I'm a tortoise with big ideas."Brutha hesitated. He knew

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