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11.       I’m having a difficult time typing my documentation because I couldn’t understand my own   
h           handwriting.

22.       I spend almost an hour every morning debating if I should go to work, or class.
a.       I have hypersomnia
b.      “I marry the bed” – Anne Sexton

33.       I’m three poem exercises late. Index, Dramatic Monologue, E-Poetry
a.       Mind fog
b.      My muse is… losing luster
c.       I’m struggling with form
d.      I fall asleep when in trance

44.       Life is made up of a collage of faces, I wonder if I can store all of them.

55.       I wish to have the patience of a blinking word cursor.

66.       I feel like a stranger to my own self.
a.       Am I really doing these things? Is this really what I want? Yes, it is. But am I really doing these things? Why am I doing these things?
b.      Writerstential crisis.

77.       Maybe the only definite thing in this world is the sun. And it’s not even infinite. 

88.       Imagine a morning, any morning but a different morning, maybe the first morning when the sun is out after weeks of raining, yeah, that kind of morning, you can hear a faint sound from the speakers… Camera Obscura’s “Tears for Affairs”… your half-awake mind sways to the music’s wistful notes… uniting with it feels like going through a time warp back to an era when everything was good. You feel the ruffled sheets when you move and you swear for a moment, that you wouldn’t mind resting your head on that pillow for more than a thousand years. If you die someday, you want to die with this feeling— comfy and easy with a tinge of dreaminess. You finally had the will to get out of bed and didn’t bother to look at the clock. There’s no need knowing, you live from moment to moment and determine time from circumstances, phases. You light your first cigarette and pull the curtains blocking the view from your wooden window— the sun is blinding white, the sea is a palette of emerald and turquoise. You try to remember what day it is, how long have you been in paradise? You forgot your own question the next second. The day is just so beautiful it’s distracting. 

I’m telling you this, because that’s my kind of day.