Once upon a time there was a lovely little radish named Emily. Emily was the radish-child of a number of attempts at naming a child which had not previously turned out as Emily. In the process of naming the child Emily many cogs and levers were employed, to make sure the child turned out just right. One would think that the father of the child was most important in the eventual outcome but much of the genetic information is changeable and even were it not, so on and so forth. Is this, perhaps, the expression of an attempt at immortality. Probably not. One is either immortal or one is not.
Rather, the exchange of information through bodily fluids is exacted by a sort of smooth, rhythmic up and down motion where the naked penis is in contact with the naked, soft wetness of another human and a wet fluid is ejected from the internals of the penis-having participant. As you may have guessed, it is necessary that there is a sharing of internal selves for both parts of the process. So we have information exchanges. There is a line of positive and negative that flows through the universe and all this up and down movement, though fun in its own right, is aimed at altering these patterns to positive. We have a constant counting upwards that occasionally deals in negative numbers by accident.
So then, this is why we are often attracted by fragility. Even without the act of procreation the pursuit of positive emotion has its allure, and the more negative the more alteration potential. So what has this got to do with the radish named Emily? Hold a radish in your arms. Cradle the radish. Tell me what you feel. The flush red of its radish cheeks. The little radish-specific ‘cheep cheep’ sounds it makes. You have before you a radish that you yourself created — but why? Because on some level you knew that the act of creation would create whole fields full of radish related joy. Surely there will be other radishes, but this is your radish. Now eat the radish. The radish is part of you. You are both beautiful.
boundinawalnut 