There's much to tell, but not much to say. Isn't that bizarre?
I've begun writing and reading again lately. With the final paper turned in (23 minutes before it was due, thankyouverymuch) on Wednesday, life has eased up a little, academic-wise. Thus far, I've written for several hours, and am plowing my way through James Joyce's DublinersWill--I
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I also fail at speech at times. Keeps things interesting.
Down to hang. Sorry bout email.
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Chillin' would be tyt. Not sure how my sched be rollin next week, but you toally be gettin' one a them buzz-rings on yo' cell phone soon from this biotch.
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Pee. Ess. You don't know shit about art.
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