This is a shrug of the shoulders. This is total ambivalence.
I cannot compete. I will lose the race. I shall not even attempt to run.
I throw my running shoes onto the sandy track, careless of their value, unconcerned as to their expense.
Here; I throw up my hands, I concede.
Have the medal, take the prize.
Accept my congratulations with a shrug.
Tuesday, 17 February 2009
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