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2001-05-12 matter that matters
My inspiration has all dried up. My ideas are like crisp brown sharp-edged leaves. Organic, but brittle as glass. I crumble them up in my hands. I jump into the deep piles, and they shatter under me. And if a wind kicks up, they're gone in little flying cartwheels into someone else's yard. One last romp before they turn to dust. Today: Carry on with the weeks long project of cleaning out closets and drawers and attic...all the while pounding the hard learned lesson into my head: throw shit away! many more things besides coffee grounds are unnecessary once done with.
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