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How Bad Thoughts Are Like Bad Sushi

My brain is like a conveyor belt in an empty sushi restaurant. My thoughts are the pieces of sushi that have been going around the belt forever, getting old and rancid, because there’s no one in the restaurant except me, and I hate sushi.

Except that’s not entirely true. I don’t mind the kind without raw fish. Tempura rolls are actually pretty tasty. So I eat the tempura rolls (a.k.a.

the good thoughts) whenever they come along. But sometimes, they never come along. So what do I do? I need to eat, so I grab an old piece of sushi and I start eating it.

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