Echoing out of school-days, adolescents reveling in
the power of their own clique and defensiveness... We Might Have Been Friends Who told you who I was? Who cast the shadow of their own bitterness across the vision of your honest eyes? Who was it that suggested hurting me with your disdain was the proper thing to put me in my place? Who was it, made you feel so small that to feel big at all and safe you must diminish me? Does concensus of like-persuaded views convert delusion into truth? Does being wrong together make the wrong a right? How do... Sign in to see full entry.