Monday, May 18, 2009

Stuffing My Face.

I binge on memories. Every day I shove the past down my throat and allow it to fill me. I bob through the day, waddling, swollen with what I eat & eat & eat.

At night I sit at my desk and purge. Weak poetry, erratic and incoherent journal entries, unfinished short stories, scraps of paper chicken-scratched with thoughts..

I binge and purge. Every single day. When will we learn?

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