The writings in here are going to be edited out of my life: sentences, phrases, paragraphs, incomplete thoughts. Things that I cut out but couldn't delete. I just needed to write, even if it were only in tidbits.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Letter to A Love
I feel slightly maniacal today... Like static electricty. I want to curl up somewhere quiet with you and let our thoughts drift. I miss being a kid. Work is silly. Living more important. Why doesn't society get that?
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