You’re is my first name, adopted after my birth name was lost in some spider-infested nest of municipal records. People have enlightened me as to several things that I am over the years since then. I have resigned to never change my name for them again, but if you’re searching through the prison archives for me, here are 30 of my best-known, now-dead pseudonyms:
- To big to play with that Playskool car
- My third best friend
- Probably not going to Hawaii…
- Still too young to make that kind of judgment. Don’t give up.
- An artist!
- A little eccentric, maybe, but –
- So an-noy-ing!
- Too funny!
- On my team? (upward inflection of translucent dismay.)
- so fat…
- Skinny as Hell
- In mourning for something that you think is beautiful, but it’s only because you’re still sick. You need to let it die, and it’s sad.
- my rock! Besides Maria. She’s my other rock. Without you two, I don’t know what I’d do…
- …not going to save the world.
- just PMSing
- just hungry
- wasting tape
- wasting time
- Such a waste of resources
- a musician. What makes you say you’re not a musician?
- So quiet! Don’t you have anything to say?
- Loud, Five.
- A worrywart
- doin’ okay?
- Not Supposed to Be in Here!!!!!!
- Standing. In. My. Way.
- Stretching out, getting longer and leaner. It’s a beautiful thing to watch.
- Such a pretty girl… Please don’t say that anymore.
- not “Everybody Else.”
In some cultures, a new name is tacked on to one’s given name in light of one’s life accomplishments. It seems in mine so many new names are given that one can’t help but forget. Perhaps Human would be easier to remember.
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