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December sixteenth doesn't seem as vivid as yesterday. Thank goodness. I was tired of being under the brian spell.
Today it is hot and balmy - 78 degrees and hot wind from the north.
I rationalized fading by saying that I would write even one sentence in harsh recompense.
And perhaps dance.
I have decided that I wouldn't have wanted to be married to a john. She isn't quite me - peggy - but janet had me wondering.
Listening to my new lists. The olde ones are gone for infinity.
Interesting. I love the breeze blowing through the apartment. I have all the windows open and am wearing my new vintage orange necklace and my beige juicy sweats and an urban outfitters heathered taupe 80's beal's style sweatshirt.
'the good times are killing me'.
Just gave the shabes their catnip. They love it and the breeze.
There. Obligation fulfilled.
Product produced.
Called jungle.
She was the most beautiful creature. She was wearing his wool coat and his knit hat. She looked sleepy. She was sleepy.
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