Sunday, December 17, 2006

There were seven text files. I opened them all and then closed them one by one. They tired me. They worried me, not for what they said because they didn't say much of anything. They were all pretty much dead.

I wonder when I died.

...

Usually by now something would have clicked. Something would have come alone that would have caused me to reach that higher gear.

All my burners are of the back persuasion.

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