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I don’t think I can write tonight. My mind is blank. I keep staring at this empty space, my fingers eager on the keyboard, ready to take commends from the gooey stuff inside my skull-nada. I’ve been whining about my exhaustion. My body is tired, so is my mind. My emotional body regresses back to the tender age of one-all I want to do is sleep, cry, eat, cuddle and pee.

So I can’t write tonight. Signing off…

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