It wasn't a thing, it was my own therapy for myself, a new year's resolution. 300 words a day minimum, about my life, with the aim to be truthful, no topic per say, whatever I felt like writing, but not things like food or porn.
Hmm. Maybe I'll do it too. I feel so ... ugh, I can't find the word for the feeling, since moving back. Not numb, but a more refined version of it - like clear-headed and empty at the same time. Clean and sober and without purpose.
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