Sometimes I feel invisible. I feel unheard and as though I don't really exist. Especially driving home in traffic tonight, I could swear that both me and my car are invisible. This makes me feel very small
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I've never written a story this long. So it's actually a bunch of little stories that all kind of go together. I just keep writing. Each night I write until I don't know the next scene, then I sleep on it. That's how my muse works
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Wow. I think I'll actually be up for the stroke of midnight. When I was young, I used to believe that something magical would happen at midnight and that's why they wouldn't let me stay up for it
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I am currently setting a record for the number of things to go wrong or badly on a Monday morning. This is getting pretty comical at this point
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