I must admitt, I don’t care about wind tunnels
I must admit I fear many things. Most of them, for no reason. I am like a rabbit, coincidentally that’s my Chinese zodiac sign. Maybe that explains it.
I must admit I least know about the intricate workings of a ball point pen. But that doesn’t scare me. So, no, they are not the same.’
It is fairly obvious how they are not the same. “Many things” and a ball point pen are mutually exclusive. Much like learning and last semester’s stats class.
“Many things” could be defined as “my perception of myself.” Unlike the inner workings of a ball point pen, I am aware of my faults and therefore fear them.
I talk too much, I feel too much and overall feel a lot like a rabbit. Small, scared, soft. But hey, a rabbit also has moxy so don’t go thinking it’s all self pity. No no. That would get old.
I must admit I’d trust my mother with a wild mushroom. My grandma used to take her out to hunt fungi in the fall. MY mother taught me a few kinds as a kid.
I must admit I can identify your garden variety puffball, hen of the woods, and morel. But other than that I’m useless.
Maybe a rabbit would know.
Am I spelling rabbit right? It doesn’t look right, but it’s definitely not spelled “rabitt” so I must be right. It’s also not “rabit” or “rabbitt” or “raabit” but at this point it doesn’t even sound like a real word.
Maybe in another universe it’s spelled “rabbitt,” that could be fun. I wonder if it would ever refer to the small prarie dwelling herbivore of which I speak.
I must admit I’d like to meet a rabbitt. Maybe I wouldn’t like it and I would have something tangible to fear. Like capers. I know a girl who’s scared of capers. She’s not nice though so it serves her right I guess.
I must admit I really love capers.