in this utter state of disarray i contemplate my failures. my changes that lead to this situation, and here i am with this stamp in my hand about to mail off my life to an address i don’t know of, to places i’ve never heard of, to people i’ve never seen who control such a large part of the world with their big wands of ink.
they write and write without the sincerity of yesteryears thoughts, whose thees and thats and other caveats intrigued the minds to engage a more bountiful conversation, instead of today’s straight-from-a-book “30 days to business writing” and memos and letters and faxes and forms and other states of correspondences hence none of them matches this extremely huge long run-on sentence, and i can justify it to the left or right or by the time of night, which is later than i thought i would be, but it’s not unusual for me anymore to dream about going to bed earlier. — night
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