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July 5, 2008
I tried out new names for myself, letting them linger in my mouth before spitting them out onto the floor, semi-chewed bits of letters growing into a knee-high pile. Could I be an Edith, or should I be a Sylvia? Would Dynn be a fitting name for me, or should I turn to another combination of vowels and consonants to form another name fitting of me? Still, I do wonder how people can go their entire lives, satisfied with the name their parents gave them, a name given when one was merely a blob, a nothing, a nobody.