so in my continued pursuit of writing skill, i have decided to take direction with my flow of words, less like a river, more like an artist's brush painting the path of my own private river (airfield/idaho)
what follows is part one of of how i have come to date Marie. subtitle: On who i was a week ago sorry it's so long, i figured that's another
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and oddly enough, in some ways i think i'm taking this more seriously than before, though i get what you mean about how it seems less serious than before.
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and what do you think of the quality of my writing, oh readerous one?
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do you mean it's demanding distinction where it deserves none, or that's its overly showy? or both?
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