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This is what it could look like when one completely deconstructs a life as one knows it, and how to build from the ground up. Alternatively, this is a fresh look at an old story. The fine art of falling apart.

get down

I've just noticed that I have a lot of movies from the 80's in my meager collection.
But I can't find my copy of Pride and Prejudice. I guess I am lonely for Mr. Darcy.

Reruns of Six Feet Under, The Ice Harvest and fevered hours staring at the Documentary channel have been how I've passed the time. Tried to back up my system a few times, but apparently it's idiot-proof, I can't figure it out.

A really long hot shower, and the guy who lives upstairs thumping on the floor because my music was too loud. I may complain here about his penchant for Shania Twain at 2 in the morning during the week, but never have I thumped on my ceiling for the volume let alone for his bad taste. I left it on. Let him call the police on a sunday afternoon on May-long weekend.

No matter what I do, I can't shake the bad taste friday night emails have left in my mouth, it's my own ego that won't stop telling me what a moron move it was.
Wish I had some ativan left.

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