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July 12, 2002
Some days my words come so fast I have to stop halfway through a thought and realize I'm at 125 words and I have to start over, culling down my overflow of ideas. Other days, it is hard to write 10 words because I'm preoccupied with some trivial nuisance that I can't let go. My life is a mess, and I can't seem to get it under control for more than 6 months without slipping back into old, lonely habits and seeking solitude in my small apartment, away from the looks and comments of others. I speak MY truth, seemingly…