What a long day.
I am exhausted, maybe sick.
I ate a terrible lunch because I only had 15 minutes and made a bad judgement call.
It is the most momentous election of our lives and we are apart.
It is both inappropriate and consistent and a sign of everything wrong with everything else.
I should be get psychiatric help, but instead I just talk to my blog.
I've switched from swimming to yoga because the pool and the outside temperature are not cooperating. That isn't helping things, muscles which haven't been used in a long time hurt and 30 minutes is not long enough and 45 minutes seems like forever.
I'm supposed to acknowledge my failures and apologize sincerely, but I am not ready to move on.
I am a living ghost. I think we are all ghosts, pretending to be alive until one day we are not.
I think I need to apologize to someone else, and move on to another life after death.
A writer needs a voice. This is my voice. I hide it except for you.
It's no wonder that I don't write well, its because the only time when i can use my voice is when I am writing to you.
Everything ends, but not everything has to end.
At some point in time I lost everything and at one point in time I had everything.
The nights are growing longer, colder.
It mocks the growing darkness inside of me.
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