3:00pm.... I begin reading the 1st page of "Less Than Zero" by Bret Easton Ellis and a shudder comes over me as I look around my room and have a distinct feeling that I'm living a life that I wasn't meant to live. I saw my surroundings like I would gaze at a stranger and realized that the things in my life were real and not delusions of success.
I still wonder though... what would it be like to be a writer?
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The daily jazz of my mind, as pure & honest as possible; but know that words are themselves filters of the original thought/idea.
