I decided to create a blog. I already hate myself. I had sworn to remain in the age of books and notebooks and scattered pages and sore fingers. But lately my middle finger callus has decreased in size and pain( I guess aesthetically not too bad), meaning I have forsaken my writing(I am in fact writing a book, just not my own), for more every-day dabbles. I am sitting next to my best friend, who basically forced me to do this, slightly uncomfortable at the thought of writing in front of another person; even if it is the one I share everything with. I am also slightly drunk, which may be a good thing.
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