Lungs hurt. Owie. Hate it when I get lung-sick. Bronchitis this time. Went to the doctor, doctor at least gave me medicine but it's all full of codiene so I'm three-quarters asleep and hence the pronoun-free typing style. It'll go soon. I think eventually I shall return to my original style of writing, wherein I actually say something. I've been getting diaryland blues, where all your friends read your diaryland so you're scared to write everything you might have written but screw that. It's my diary and I'll write what I want to. Besides, nobody that I know except Cesca reads this, and I'm laboring under the delusion that she will love me even if I do make incensory remarks. So as soon as I can think coherently again and I have something to say and some time in which to say it - wow, I'm beginning to remember why I started writing clipped news-of-the-day bulletins in the first place. But I will start philosophizing agin. Eventually.
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