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December 2010

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tardis

I'm sitting in a tiny tea shop, sipping Assam and wondering... When did I turn into this?  Why do I not have any purpose?

My writing is shit.  I read it, and I want to rip it and burn it.  I want to claw it out of my computer screen and tear it to shreds.  There is no meat, no heart behind it.  Because I have no substance.  I have lost my drive.  Something has been killed inside of me.

I did not even get upset yesterday, when I finally got my firm and resolute "no."  I even felt a bit relieved.  I have no reason to wait any longer.

Then there's the dizzying revelation.  I am missing something.  Some piece of the human existence that has made it impossible to determine where I need to go.  I don't know how to be a grown up.  And I want to be one.  I'm tired of being a child.  I need to curl up under someone's covers.  The fact is, I lack experience.  I need to date a man, not a boy.  I want to have an adult conversation, and curl into someone's side.

I don't think I will ever have that.

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