when i say i love writing, it sounds stupid. it doesn't sound stupid when i type it out but it does when i come back and look at the post a month later. mostly i figure if i wasn't myself, i would be very contemptuous of who i am. because i am myself, i'm rather proud of me. then again there is the off-chance that if i wasn't me i would still be madly in love with me.
when i'm typing out thoughts it sounds stilted. and somehow silted. like there's a hurdle i hit my ankle against. but also like there's been some kind of thoughtscape erosion; like i'm buried under half a ton of mud.
coherence isn't happening tonight. not yet at least.
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