I sit, all day, alone. I am cold. The house is cold. Food makes me sick. My sleep is fitful, when I get it. The nightmares come in the morning.
Perhaps I should go to grad school... somewhere... for something that might interest me. I just don't remember what interests me.
Perhaps I should go to grad school... somewhere... for something that might interest me. I just don't remember what interests me.
NOV 19, 2005 06:43 AM
NOV 19, 2005 06:46 AM
NOV 19, 2005 07:31 AM
NOV 19, 2005 07:31 AM
NOV 19, 2005 07:35 AM
NOV 19, 2005 08:07 AM
NOV 19, 2005 08:08 AM
NOV 19, 2005 08:09 AM
NOV 19, 2005 09:09 AM
















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