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September 23, 2009
My thoughts meander, like my walk. I walk in squiggles, roaming from shoulder to shoulder, sidewalk to sidewalk, locker to locker, room to room. I've no purpose, perhaps. I've no purpose in this life, or maybe I've. Maybe wait, I must set my own purpose. Oh the absolute weight of that thought, makes me want and want and want to have someone else decide, but no, no, no. I don't want someone else to decide. Is it my life, or my life. My life? Who could possibly answer that? Is my life really, truly, my my life to live maybe?