every word that I type feels like a blade in my back, chest and shoulders
I am in pain writing to you
but that won't stop me
what is love? a good question, especially at the beginning of Works of Love
Kierkegaard explains, I have not read yet, but I'm seeing both red and blue
birds tweeting hurts my ears
maybe it's just someone to talk to, ya know, a voice behind the masks
we wear these masks everyday, whether at work or at home
the social actor plays different roles everyday
whether it be mother, son, boss, co-worker, file clerk or lover
we do not comprehend this as role change because we do it naturally
now I'm stuck at writer, up and down, and backwardsness
will this state of mind change? or do i have to change me?
i beg to differ on either one
the second book has gone apeshit, but I'll be able to fix it
there's narrative and then there's the narrator
playing the narrator is my tour de francais
my French is terrible, I should have studied on that plane ride
the crash from the coffee is probably the cause, the caffeine of more than 5 cups of coffee
i should have just drank the pot (worldwide spoiler alert)
but I'm guessing it has to be the caffeine
or this day to day nonsense, I'm getting bored,so they put me on boards
and I can't swim without my life jacket on
not exciting, I know, but that's all I have for you now
Gg
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