what am I doing here?

Gee. I haven’t written purely for the sake of expressing myself since my freshman year of college (circa 1992)

I had this velvet, hard-bound journal that i’d been writing in for years… poetry, pencil drawings, wishes, stories,
song lyrics, set-lists, and of course secrets.

The book disappeared one night. My roommate and I had a party in our dorm room and someone made off with it.
Or maybe my roommate tossed it… I wasn’t much fun in those days.
And that was that. I never wrote again.
I went so far as to attribute my failings in higher education, lack of romantic possibilites, increased temper,
and all around nastiness to the sad loss of this book.

Until now. I’m done with it. No more.
And to the person that took the book… I hope you tripped on it and bumped your head…. just kidding :)

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