aosid's Diaryland Diary

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possible theses for tonight's entry:

i was not built for the firsthand.
the population dwindles and i can sleep again.
torturous muse, you are a guilty pleasure.
a boy of nine has long adopted that familiar sad acceptance (father said, "You'll be happier as soon as you realize you have no control over your life.")
i am not screaming at the dawn.
i miss the poetry too.

5:12 a.m. - 2011-12-15

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