2005-10-23 - 7:44 p.m.

Living is a hard thing and sleep is not enough of an interruptus. Hard and soft.

I didn't eat and then I ate a lot of broccoli and then the night's conversation switched to sobering things and I chose to clear my plates away with the sort of sentiment best expressed by archaic third meanings rather than figure out how to conversationally exit from the visceral and the inwardly screaming.

I'm reading "Poor Things" by Alasdair Gray. The research paper topic I've chosen is female hysteria in British literature.

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