I already regret last night's entry, but there we go, it's out there now. Walking my dog this morning, I realised that a good amount of effort is spent making sure he walks in the right direction, and that he doesn't eat anything off the ground. Mostly, my mind simply zigzagged between thinking about C and outlining a short story I'm about to write. I forget everything that came in between.
I went back to reading a fellow diarist. Not entirely sure why. It read like poetry and I kept reading.
I'm still a little unorganised in the head. I look at the time and it's already been an hour since I started writing this. Too many phase outs.
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