I collect my moments into a correspondence with a mightier power who just lacks my perspective.

My biggest fear (aside from not being perfect, letting people down, becoming extremely fat, and forgetting important events) is that in the end, it will have all been a waste. I hate being a fabrication. Or do I love being a fabrication? It’s all situational, I suppose.

Life is a big *expletive* situation.

I really want to get out of this town for a minute. Perhaps I should start playing the lottery. I want to see things. Eat things. Drink things. Feel and breathe things.

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