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Firing another one into the mists.

Tonight is the night that I have to start the novella, so consequently the apartment's tidy, I've done the dishes, and I'm about to make pancakes because. You know. Brain food. I've been feeling a little off for most of the day and the city is frozen in my feet at the moment, but one must soldier on. And fireworks, there are fireworks, but that's a glistening background noise for the proceedings.

I promise longer entries soon, but 1000 words a day (at least) requires this foreign concept called discipline.

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This page contains a single entry from the blog posted on October 31, 2006 9:26 PM.

The previous post in this blog was "This is my friend Milton. I bought him at the florists in Brasilia Airport. He wanted me to liberate all his little friends..." (Neil Gaiman).

The next post in this blog is Experimental apparatus lowered into the chest cavity..

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