As I sit here, drunk, I feel the most expressive I've felt in a while. It's time to purge a lot. Maybe more than I've actually ever shared before
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I wish I was the creative person I used to be. The inspired teenager with dreams. I wish adult life hadn't corrupted me. Taken my innocence. Destroyed my hope. Erased my talents. Now, anything I write just seems so jaded and fake. I tend to just tear it up and throw it away. But, maybe, one day, I will find a muse. I will rise from this rut. I will