It's Just a Hole in the Ground

I like being special. I /want/ to be special. But I learned today that at least one facet of what makes me unique might not hold up in the future. I learned that I might just become another one in the masses.

Well, I would be if the masses could fit in my hidey-hole.

I like my hidey-hole. It makes me special. Sure, some people /think/ that they have their own little hidey-holes, useful when things get too busy or frightening or when they're just plain bored. My abilities to make proper use of a hidey-hole transcend these normal uses. I managed to live in /my/ hidey-hole for years!

But, alas, I was talking to a friend today and discovered that he's been making extensive use of a hidey-hole of his own. He didn't quite manage to use it properly for a full month, but it shows that he's working on it. Sooner or later (I hope later), he'll obviously be able to make use of it for longer periods of time. Mayhaps even surpassing my best record.

And then, what will I have, other than years wasted? Sure, you might think that I could start over, that I could manage to retain my title of hidey-hole king, but I no longer can. I've tried to return to my hidey-hole, and found that I've forgotten where the entrance is.

Yeah, I could dig another, but would it really be the same? I'd have to give up all the furniture I already applied to the previous one!

No, I'm going to have to resign myself to being that much less unique. I'll have to become more normal. Which frightens me very much. But I can at least console myself with the knowledge that I'll still, always, and forever remain unique in at least one way.

So please don't tell me that you know someone else that exists on a couple hours of sleep at a time. If you did, well, I'd just have to go hide.