I haven’t been able to write a single thing for months. No poems or anything else. This is my longest period of silence and I’m not sure what’s going on with me. I even have these two or three amorphous ideas in my head about potential poems but I can’t do anything with them; I’ve tried but I just can’t. I’m confused by this…????

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Happy Birthday to me! I’m an old lady now. I’m celebrating in Florence tonight so I feel pretty good.

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“The only remedy for love is to love more.”

Henry David Thoreau, I feel you and I feel that quote is true. So, I’m going out with two guys (separately, of course) because I don’t want to think about Ryan anymore. Because I can’t be in his life the way I want to be, and I don’t know what he’s thinking and the un-mutuality of this relationship is hurting me. Because I’m in love with him. and he isn’t with me. 

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Terrible dream about me visiting him with my parents and then seeing there’s someone else so he ignored me totally. it was the weirdest fucking dream and I hate that now I’m thinking about him even when I’m sleeping. 

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i haven’t been able to write for three weeks, or something like that. ugh. 

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things that need to be discussed
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on growth
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it is shaping up to be such a kierkegaard summer. like. fuck all y’all but I’m going to be reading sickness unto death because that is my fucking mood. I AM SO GRUMPY AND ONLY BEAUTIFUL DEAD SWEDISH DUDES FEEL ME 

(ok and maybe I’ll read some goethe bc young werther man) 

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