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before I tried closing my
first vent. They were laughing at me of course. This was well before any had
died of over-ingestion. I was slower, shorter, and more boring than anyone except the girl who was born with a
vent deficiency. Believe me, it does not help one's self-image to be the slowest one to begin
closing vents. Now I am older. Now most of my vents are closed. Now many of my playmates are dead,
senile, or pitiful. I still hope to create, but the winds are howling. The
pressure inside is immense. New matter can hardly blow in against the gradient. Old matter is eliminated by chance, as it flows near
one of the few open vents left. The pressure grows painful. I have two choices: eat faster open some vents. Open too many vents and bingo, senility! Eat too much and you get heart disease. I think I will just go play softball.
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