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Every day a voice (annoying, loud, and intense) orders me do things I’ve already accomplished. I reply, “Oh, great one. I’ve already executed those orders, perceiving the need in advance.”

The voice is a Philistine. A caterpillar uni brow perches upon its forehead. Always watching, a lion in wait, he pounces upon me at the slightest hint of weakness. My cunning, a deadly weapon, it wounds the great beast.

Clever as I am, the voice has the power. With extraordinary effort I make that power my own, and the great voice heeds to my advice.

I send the voice to quest the lands with unimportant busy work. It leaves me to my own devices. I’ve become the puppeteer wrenching the stings of a mighty foe.

Then I put my feet up on my desk and eat my lunch in peace. Hoping the boss stays away for the rest of the day

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