I almost enjoy nights like this. Long, slow, intimate nights, entered with apprehension and the anxiety that I'll never finish, that when I do finish, I'll have produced shit. But, here I am right in the middle of the silent darkness, finally settled into my keys, and I know that within hours I'll be finished, before I blink, it'll be printed and
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I share your horrible curse-slash-superpower, as we have discussed. It is a bit like an unwieldy superpower... it allows us to accomplish seemingly amazing things, but it is fickle and nerve-wracking and who knows when someday it will not work, or work poorly, or something. (There it is again.)
Yeah.
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