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3:52 a.m. / March 13, 2005 - - cuts everywhere

i have these little pieces of paper with bits of writing on them all over my room. i've been throwing them away recently. not because i can't still relate to them, and not even because i do not enjoy reading them, but because i have too many things. i want to get rid of some. more than what i already have. if i could transmute most of my possessions into currency or, better yet, plane tickets right now, i would.

i have no money. i told work, "i cannot come in between the 19th* and the 29th; i am leaving town" and payday, it's on the 25th. i really do want to leave town, even if all that entails is driving to des moines parking my car and walking around for twelve hours.

and along with getting rid of fragments of my high school years, i'm also letting my other two online journals die (find them if you want; i'll bet that you could very easily. i don't promise much). i read a few other people's journals today, only to find that they had already stopped writing in them. both of them mentioned copying and saving every entry. really, i can't be bothered to do that. if it's worth remembering i'll remember it. the fact that there's no written documentation of the past does not make it any less real.

a friend ended up at my house tonight, and then another friend. one went home. the other is sleeping on my couch, and i work in twelve hours.

i want to see every city in the world.

*my birthday

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