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i'm not, i'm not, really Jeezh, I haven’t done a lot of things for the past few holy days. I’m beginning to feel like a neglectful Christian, and that won’t be the point of this entry, I can assure you. Let me see… hmm… I really don’t know how to begin, I haven’t moped about for a long time. Let’s see… I was browsing through my really really old entries, and then I realized why some people choose to delete their journals. Not just entries, mind you, but whole journals. It’s embarrassing to even relay some parts of it. The point is, I read some entries alluding to a period of my life when I was still dating. damn, that was hard to spell out. I feel like I’m a 40 year old It’s hard to write this entry without sounding so… pitiful, and desperate. I hate that word. Desperate. especially when there’s denial that comes right after. It doesn’t work, the denial part. it’s like telling yourself gravity doesn’t exist as you fall off a twenty-storey building. It’s both useless and untrue. Who are you trying to convince? The ground? It won't work; deny all you want, close your eyes, scream, whatever, but the point is, you are falling and you're about to meet the ground, gravity is there and you might as well shake its hands. Desperation has a truth of its own. And the truth is, once it’s there, it can never be denied. But I’m not desperate. What the hell am I saying? i'm lonely, i need my wife.
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