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September 1, 2010
Some of the things I wrote last month didn't make a lick of sense. I knew this when I wrote them, but I was sleepy and wanted to go to bed.

Here is my hope: someone will come along (or I will come along, later) and read them, and interpret them in a way that does make sense.

It is sort of a long shot, I know. But the act of interpretation is as important as the act of writing, and if the person who interprets what I have written is drunk enough, he or she might find something meaningful.