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Life is going too well for me? Nothing to bitch about = Nothing to write about. Baah. No way. I will be back. Not that I am going anywhere. It just that nothing really has taken my attention lately. I am jaded. Dunno why. I will eventually snap out of it. I lost my will to fatten up my scenario. I got the story down. The beginning, climax and the ending is there. I just need to fill in between parts so I can better portray the main characters and their relation to each other also to the people around them. Damn this must be an addiction. Now that I started typing I can't stop. I feel like I am in an episode of Seinfeld. Welcome to my journal about nothing. Other than that woman around me are still as fucked up as I have left them. Or even better we could say I am as fucked as I was when we last left off. So nothing seems to have changed. On another note now I am sitting at my desk at work my co-worker a woman is hugging the hell out of an ex-co worker who also is a woman. They have known each other for only two months. They had the same ritual only 7 days ago. Is it just me, but it all seems so fake. No fake is not the word. Uhm... wasted. I would like to save my hugs and other affectionate behaviour for the right moments. So I would say on average I hug really tight and meaningfully about once or twice a year. I am not including blood kin to the numbers even though we don't hug the hell out of each other. Farthest I got with the colonel was a crisp salute. Post a comment in response: |
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