I, for some reason, tend not to update this thing regularly. It kills me that this is the reason I feel like I want to update now. I shouldn't be updating. I should be reading other people's journals about their drunken weekends, boy/girlfriend problems, or their new found love for gardening, and then debating whether or not to update; settling,
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It isn't often when I have to make a toast, with a drink like, but when I do I always say the same thing. I can't remember where I first heard it, but it's stuck with me:
"Here's to the truly great ones - there's damn few of us left."
I've been remembering that over and over again the last couple days, always thinking that now there's one fewer, and that the rest of us are so much less-great for it.
JLK
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