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Things like writing seem silly, in this province, where your days melt like “butter on a pile of…

Things like writing seem silly, in this province, where your days melt like “butter on a pile of flat jacks” (or however that goes). I’m sitting on a bench and it’s really, really windy. I just held back on filling up on super. Super for free! I feel grotesque. I’m listening to my spotify favorites and my dog is really excited to see other dogs. It’s definitely fall but I’m gonna have to bulk up with more than a marshmellow puff sleeveless jacket. It’s O.K. warm, but it looks ridiculous. I look like a kid who wants to become a punky bummy dyke-y type. Motorcycle-Gabby in baggy-wear.

Free food really fills a person up if you go looking for it. I don’t think I should trust the food. I’m in a funny-suit.

I had a brownie and a cookie today. Listening to Spotify. I wish I had a ukulele again sometimes but I know it’s a matter of time. However much time I’m not sure. A hippie-looking dude is strumming a guitar in here. There are so many in the city.

I’m the only fuck with a laptop.

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