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June 2, 2010
I have always loved to write: poetry, fiction, travel stories, angry letters. There was a time I could not get my pen to flow, now my brain won't stop. Not the ideas, just words. They come out of my brain like the line of clowns that tumble out of that tiny circus car. I try to express my gratitude, argue a point, or 'tell a little bit about myself' to a new group and somewhere around the forth rambling sentence a little voice says "You did it again". I can see it in their eyes, but seemingly cannot prevent it.