Soit's been a while and here I am again, full of emotions, thoughts, and worthless bullshit to put to pen and paper... well keystrokes and monitor screens. I'm debating whether or not to put all of it out there in chapter and verse for the whole world to analyze, empathize and maybe even sympathize with just because I really don't care if the world
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You know, all the rebirth, shmirth, girth and everything else that rhymes with earth. The leaves change colors and fall to the ground, and the trees' nightmare of showing up to the forest naked comes true. Besides, we get an extra hour of sleep (only to be robbed from us months later; pardon me for calling the Four Seasons an Indian Giver.)
We always have Modest Mouse. Meant for winters. The Golden Age. (go ahead an pop in Beck's "Golden Age" off the album "Sea Change."
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