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� thought laundering and a paucity of words �


8:12 p.m., 2002-07-31

so.

i carry a small notepad in my pocket which i use to scribble down things i might think of in the course of a day that are worth keeping. needless to say, it's pretty dusty.

was pretty dusty.

see, i forgot to take it out of my pocket before washing my clothes last night.

yes, i wash my clothes. unbelievable i know.

so this morning in the dryer i found this:

and with this came the realization that my entire hiatus writings were contained therein. it was churned to pulp in the machines. i'm not the type of person to memorize things as they come from my pen, so it all is in fact lost to the world. every word i slaved over and cultivated and perhaps at times replaced with more suitable words... all lost. this does nothing for the mental state in which i currently reside. some days it seems like everything worsens everything else. with the notebook gone there is a void in my pocket. i'm like a writing eunuch. this should come as no surprise to a few people within earshot since they have known for years about my insistence that i am in fact a eunuch.

something is missing.

luckily i find myself in the throes of yet another desolate bout of writers block; a horrible dearth of inspiration. i say luckily because now even if i wanted to write things i have nowhere to put the things i theoretically would have to say under more favorable and positive circumstances.

the end.


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