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2007-08-06 - 1:41 p.m.

counting days on my fingers, from one up to ten

back at work, at the museum, it is too cold at my bench and someone has taken the colored pens from my drawer.

i wish things were easier. i wish i were gutsier. i don't want to go, but i don't want to stay here, either.

goodbyes are always hard.


[n-1] < n < [n+1]