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Blog this, blog that, everyone's got a blog. I'm in love, I'm broke, the show last night was awesome! Welcome to "me" magazine, where everyone's the editor. I can barely bring myself to continue on with this crap anymore. I appreciate the attention I am afforded here, but I can't tell you what I am feeling, or what I have been doing, because then you'll know what a bad boy I've been lately, and now many of you know who I am. Thanks. I'm stuck.

I can tell you though, that lately I have felt like I am stumbling in the middle of an empty northern back road, with my arms broken, and my wrists dragging through the oiled gravel. They do that to roads ya know? Pour oil on them; it cuts back on dust from the big rigs. There are no trucks in my thoughts though, only trees, and as I stumble forward through the tall fauna of the days, the mass of tree tops look like jaws of sharpened teeth bearing down on my sweaty, confused forehead. Out of the corner of my eye the horizon shakes with each step I take, becuase my knees are locked and unable to absorb the shock of my invalid movements in the glistening blue skies of the lengthening days. Summer is coming.

Now, shoo! Or I'll make you cry.