actuality.log


Thursday, February the 26th, 2004

I fished up. Big time. I feel horrid. My tummy is all quesy. I really am a mean person.

I am not risking croaking here in this state. I chose to do something different elsewhere. I cannot hurt or sadden anyone that way.

Now to go home and toss and turn. I deserve that too. What is wrong with me?

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