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April 19, 2004
While at work inspiration shows itself as a tiny bird who likes to eat fermented berries. Now I don't remember thoughts that may have only pretended to be noble introductions to homilies. What the heck is a homily? I know it is something religious. One recovered thought: my best friend was a horse, and she didn't even like me that much. I let her down in the end. It is hard to think about how she was when she was dying. She couldn't stand although we tried. It was pathetic. Dear God, we must have made you up. A psychosis.