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Monday, Dec. 01, 2003 | 8:47 pm as close to oblivion
ironic. this. my need. the desire. for more. or less is it? keep to the script. reveal nothing. it's there for all to see. if they choose so. but not really. a mystery even to me. i'd rather not look. delving in the past has led to things we'd rather not see. so here we have it. smile. pouty lips. aurburn hair looks to the sun. you get what you see. or so it seems. to you. no other will. more wine. my virtue grows heavy. certainly not censoring this eve. not with what's in place. ativan dreams. truth serum reality. and what does it matter. i'll dance my ass off for you. or so you'd hope. but i dance for me. because I can. because it's my happy. annie hall on malprobalmate. that peter pan, such a silly character. two mikes and no clue about pcu's. good on ya. i will read this later like all entries in my blue notebooks. and sigh or laugh or simply bewilder. so many books now. two a year more or less? 14? i've lost count. i'd rather not calculate. so much. too much. and for what? and why? what sort of sadistic question is that? because...it's my path. my journey. why the fuck for anything else in the universe? it is what I am. and I collect them like raindrops. present in the moment, then remnants. one day to burn or. times like these...quotas and trays. peanut butter and the girl without the name. tossi. shit. that's enough of that. can you follow? have you any idea? perhaps not. perhaps never. my vault holds many secrets. i'll drink to that. una mas. i think this would be a richard of sorts. my darling...soon. and now back to the book. don't ask. i don't know...or maybe i'm just not telling.
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