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July 25, 2010
I had a dream. In this dream, a little girl was walking in a field, and every few moments she bent down to plant a flower. She would pat the soil around the stalks and smile and move on without looking back. Behind her, the flowers she had so carefully planted were wilting. Their petals curled up, turned brown and moldy, and dropped to the ground along with the rest of the plant. 

My dream-self, having watched this with horror, said most wisely, "Good intentions rarely grow." Which I realized, when I woke up, is complete rubbish.