I've been in an apartment with no job, no classes and the company of one person for too long. My dreams take me to the ocean, in past's crevices, anywhere but here. My life is slipping between my fingers, hours added to days to months, but I smile more too. I'm standing in water knee deep, feeling it rush, away from, and toward me. My eyes can
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god-fucking-damn I'm bored. Come back to Oregon. And write a new journal entry. this one is so sad. Or you can just reply to my fantastic journal entry. It will illuminate the world with a kind of radiant glowing awesomeness. Maybe your journal could engage my journal in a discussion of contemporary American politics. I will awe your mind in a debate.
Shit, I'm sorry.
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