... once when I was a kid. She's not sure because she didn't have it checked out. Besides, all they do is put a piece of tape on it and tell you to go home. She thinks there's a little bump in it from that. I don't remember anything about the experience at all. I don't feel scarred, or neglected, and my nose looks fine the way it is. What I mean to say is, I'm old now, and this is the kind of story I occasionally tell myself to justify some degree of self-satisfaction, as if I had suffered some kind of hardship with grace. In truth, it's just something that maybe happened, or maybe didn't, wasn't a particularly formulative experience, and certainly has no bearing on anything at all. And when I say that, what I really mean to say is that self-awareness is a trap. It's often an exercise in socially fed creative fiction. While original myth seems inherent to the human experience, it shouldn't be understood as more than a metaphor. It's important to know thyself, but it's also important to not get too close, because you're here now, and your nose looks the way it does for whatever reason, or maybe no reason at all.