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April 29, 2005, 4:49 p.m.

Dear ,

Are you content with your heartbeat?

I can imagine your person always off guard, slipping off the couch in a cold, shocked horror expression.

Did I catch your tongue or your heart?

I'm a purring feline waiting to comfort your chin with my head, but stick your tongue in any direction and it becomes meat to my claw.

What does the game become with an absence of rules?

I run around like a lizard with her tail hacked off, and you repay me with a new tail. I appreciate the effort, but I think it's time for me to see the punishment for my crime.

Why the protest for freedom?

I'm used to the open cage. Allow me to roam, but stop with the signs. Freedom is overrated.

If I bite will you respond?

My life is becoming too simple. I ask that you pour molasses on my fur, drop me in the desert, and direct me to the nearest bath 15 miles away from you.

Is this important?

Of course, but don't worry the tape recorder just ran out of space.

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