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spun

May 4, 2006

cant seem to shake the nightly terror. he haunts me, the bastid, waving plots of revenge at me, right in my face – at the forefront of my conscious mind. My inherent sweetness and actual fear of consequences of course deflect the machinations, yet they sweep up at night when the surrounding world slows and gives the impression the sleep of the 90 minute cycle has taken hold.

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