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| >> Book >> Personal >> ID #1468633 |
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![]() After a brief period away, I returned to discover that my other three journals (not to mention most of my other work) had been banished into the bowels of cyber space. There were some tears and angry exclamations, followed by fruitless bargaining and more angry exclamations, until it was begrudgingly accepted that the work was no more and that going forward it might be a good idea to read the fine print. Life is a crazy causal continuum and change is part of it, so even though the last three years of memories are no longer on record, I am moving forward, hoping that what I write in this journal will stay where it is, and that most of it will be worth remembering. |
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#84. Christmas is carnage, said the duck.
#83. Would You Like Fries With That?
#82. I'd probably deserve it.
#81. Ginger.
#80. Roots
#79. Wii
#78. Grey Smoke of November
#77. Pardon me.
#76. Not just leaves in the air.
#75. Bellyacher
#74. Scaling.
#73. Mother.
#72. Yes.
#71. November Rain
#70. Fancy Animal
#69. October's Done, and I'm Tired.
#68. Boo.
#67. Done.
#66. Exes
#65. Round One
#64. Dinner.
#63. Break Stuff
#62. Four
#61. Somehow, the mind went in this direction.
#60. Fruit lover. |