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Labor day: September 7, 2009

So today I’m sitting here. Sitting here at a coffee shop with a piece of creativeness and sense of lost within me that only lives on rare occasion. I’ve been feeling lost. Lost to exist. Burnt to work. Cold to actuality. Does any of it really matter? I’m in a constant battle with the urge to quit everything and run away. This happens to me ever 18 months. I usually fight the urge for 8 months and then take off. Take off in search of growth. When I know deep down that nothing will grow. The only thing that will grow is the distance between myself and the understanding & sense of home.

I want to be left alone. I want to pretend that all the change that has happened in the past 6 months; didn’t.

The people behind me are talking about the high scale strip joint in town. I had to share a story about my great friend Brett who went there for his birthday.

In retrospect this will all seem vicious.

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