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Previous - this entry written on 2001-06-13 at 9:56 a.m. - Next It's unpleasant, knowing how long you are expected to live. Being able to say to yourself 'this long, and no further'. I try to ignore it, most days. My mother wants me to move to the coast. Caleb is asleep. Facts, boring horrible facts, and all I want to do today is loose myself in fantasy. I want to be able to stop thinking about the Facts. About dying. I really don't want to think about that at all.
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