Biography
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Essays by
An average day
I don’t believe we really love each other, but we cling to each other out of ennui.
The fire bogey
These precious Journals! Supposing I lost them! I cannot imagine the anguish it would cause me.
Living now in rooms alone
For a long time past my hope has simply been to last long enough to convince others of what I might have done–had I lived.
