Friday, November 24, 2006
I want to go. I was cleaning…going through dusty junk that I can’t throw away. I want to leave it all here and go in the jeans I am wearing to some place where I don’t own anything. I want to be a guest, a traveler. Curl up by the campfire on the beach watching the sun go down, and the stars come out, and listen to someone playing a guitar.

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