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Thursday, December 11, 2003roomI'm sitting in an all to famliar room-not my own, not even one in my own house, but one that i love all the same. blue. and memories.there's a lot of space to fill up right now-both on this page, and in my life. there's...not a lot to me. i consist of the normal flesh and bone, the everyday thoughts of most anyone at eighteen years of age, and then...space. if i were a book, id be a very bad one; i would have a great start, plenty of suspence, my share of pain, of course, and even a small romance thrown in towards the end, but as the page turns to today there is a void that consists of one character: "?" A question mark-where am i going? of course everyone asks that question and no one actually knows the answer for certain, but my dilemma is that i don't know where i want to go. or if i want to go. when there's nothing had, nothing done, nothing said, there remains a page that resists its ink as oil would water. ...where to go from here?
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