When I'm given certain phrases or words, I treat them like any magpie would with a shiny object — or any animal really I suppose. I turn them over and over, taste them, listen to them, eye them, test their durability, and on and on.
To the passerby, they're innocuous.
"You wouldn't have to drag me."
"I'll drive around until I find the perfect place."
To me, they're worth more than gold. They're treasures that I store away to fish out when I need a pick me up. I decorate the nest in my mind with them, until it's shiny and glittering with those happy thoughts.
I'm sorry, but I can't explain them any more than that, you'll just have to take away what you will from what I've given you. Like anything in life, explanation cheapens it. Turning them over in my own mind wears away the edges a bit, but true explanation gives them to the harsh eyes of others and snatches the special bits clean away.
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