10:50 p.m.
August 05, 2003
What's there to write here anymore?
I can't write from the heart, because all I use that for anymore is pumping blood. My mind has atrophied and isn't terribly interested. Where do I write from, then? All I ever have to write about now is apathy and how happy I am with it.
Because, you know, I just want to slide through the summer without a trace.
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