Yesterday, I saw a dog obstacle course, visited the Museum, and read a book (The Great Gatsby, which was entertaining). Today I am reading A Month of Sunday's by John Updike. I can't decide whether he's a better poet or novelist. I'll have to read more of his novels to make a fair decision. I'm very glad to be alive, and I hope that you are, too. I
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How I miss you.
Keep reppin' that food industry, I never tell co-wrkers that I smoke either.
Always a bad girl, Always. Always a bad girl.
I'm coming home right after your birthday. Go to Tdot. I will meet you there.
Oh fuck it hurts to think of you.
My heart only beats because it knows it will reunite with yours.
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Currently, I am reading Utopia, and have just finished Buddha of Suburbia and Tropic of Cancer.
Summer reading club?
I have come to the conclusion that I will have to call you, as you seem incapable of contacting me, or perhaps unwilling. But if I force myself upon you, what can you do to ward me off?
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Have you become wholesome?
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Ames, what are you doing today then?
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I wish I could deflect bullets with my fucking eyeball.
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Ugh, I hate being awake for 3 days.
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