Tuesday, August 3, 2004

Para bailar la bamba

I am a grown up. I don't know quite how that happened, but I no longer wait for something that will never come. I do not lie alone longing for meaning. And I don't write soul-searching journal entries the way I used to, with true angst. It takes a lot more these days to cause me true pain. I must have finally gotten calluses.

This is a good thing.

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