Friday, October 27, 2006

101

Missed the century.

It seems as though it has been far too long since the last time I sat down with my doubts and had one of our little chats. Suddenly they've come around knocking again, and they know where the spare key is hidden. So I turn around and suddenly they're making themselves at home, and I'm stuck with the old shivers once more. Little things no longer satisfy.

My teeth have been singing today. How shameful to have a talent you do not care to exploit. And how disgraceful to ignore the advice of those who love you because following it is an inconvenience. Is there nothing you would do? No grand plan, desire? Is there nothing you would work your fingers to the bone for?
Oh, you lazy, lazy fool. Is this what you call a life?
I don't think I like you all that much.


In other thoughts, how long can I go? It must be seen.

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