March 13, 2002 10:25 PM
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On a rather depressing note, I was kind of down yesterday night for no good reason and wrote a short poem. Why can't all my wounds be cuts and black bruises? They're simple And heal And fade in time. I wish I'd that courtesy for everything. I find it kind of pathetic that my only inspiration is from misery, and even when that comes about it produces only mediocre work. Maybe I can change that. |
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