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under_control
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» name The form and space I take up you call Troy. It is the name of the part of the world that I control. But my spirit, or more properly, my mind, has no name. It must be different at every different time, and so I should never hope to pin it down to a name. I should be wary of the patterns that it exhibits, which give the impression that I can be named: "Oh, that is clearly how Troy would do this thing." Patterns are a comfortable prison, at times.
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diaryland |