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876.

Isolated reason for being, just that someone would look with wonder at what you've created within yourself.

I go over and over why it's gone, but it doesn't make it come back. And not so much that I miss it, but that apathy has crept under the blankets, fallen asleep with its tiny arms wrapped about my knees.

I don't know what I'm looking for any more, I don't know if I'm really looking. I've quite possibly surrendered what was left of my free will.

On a lighter note, I found the world's biggest slug on my patio last night.

12:33 p.m. - 2004-05-02

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