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If I breathe in too deeply, my neck feels like it’s stabbing me or something… like I pulled something in it. I don’t know.

I’m attempting to not erase the song I just recorded. I really really want to. I keep thinking it sounds like something else. That’s what I think about every song I ever attempt to write, though. And chances are it does. And chances are no one will ever hear this one, either. I don’t play my songs for people. I just don’t. This one is based on a poem I wrote back in 1998… one of the ones that actually wasn’t about my life.

I keep crying tonight. Fucking moody bithy camgirl jen chickazoid. And this headache will not leave.