Listening to ragtime on the baby grand. Robert plays his heart in the living room. I am very fortunate to wake up in the arms of such a magical being. He has a warm and loyal heart. I am grateful
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I have been honest. I have said my piece. I have my garden to tend to. I have my friends to love. I have my poems to write. Why waste one more moment devolving to the level of my enemies. Unlike them, I know who and what I am. I must live for me, honestly, honorably, and peacefully. A war of attrition starves everyone.