I think stress is getting the better of me, I need to chill-the-fuck-out. I can't wait tell I'm done with this paper, it's totally fucking consuming my life. Last night I laid awake thinking about Hemingway, random facts, moving, jogging around my head. I was trying to put the information together- but why? I wasn't even near anything that would
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Yeah I guess I have issues with validation, but in the end it's really stupid because the only validation I need is my own. I'm beginning to find that within the shallowness lies some sort of purity and depth, I've had some of my best moments in the "kiddy pool." If that makes sense.
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