mmmarilyn;

a big-city fairy tale.

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{a photo project, 2006}

20 september 2007; thursday.

When spring came, even the false spring, there were no problems except where to be happiest. The only thing that could spoil a day was people and if you could keep from making engagements, each day had no limits. People were always the limiters of happiness except for the very few that were as good as spring itself.

Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast

4:11:44

clean desk, can't sleep

Haven't been typing things nearly enough in the last month or so, even though when I do there is a pervasive calming feeling, like things are going just right, now that I have the chance to sit and observe. Do you ever have that feeling, like you were riding along so smoothly, and just the slightest alteration of your angle makes you believe that you're doing everything halfway, you're wasting your life away by working too much or not working enough at the things you're good at (you know you're good at them, you can still feel your natural aptitude even in these dark daydreams), your lack of discipline is preventing you from greatness, and your mediocre half-hearted attempts at following through on your grandiose ambitions are really just a laughing stock?

No? Just me then?

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