half-formed meaningless ideas are all i have to offer here. and they change from day to day. swelling up and ebbing like the tide, thrown about as i am by life, having no anchor or safe harbor. and i talk and talk and talk and somewhere there is someone with ears but my words will never reach them.
still desperate, still lonely. but who isn't? i have become hackneyed, and bored with myself. time for another change. i would change, but for the mire. it will come, but slow, as ever.
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