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Raw Emotional Self-Reflection: Leastinterested, A Reader Who Wasn’t
Library runs were my performance art. Surrounded by readers of romance, thrillers, and law, I chose cartoons and snacks. While everyone grew up citing novels, I memorized funeral listings and shop names. This is for the ones who never read the books, but still wrote their own damn story.
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Grey Hour Poem – Stillness, Dusk, and the Ache Before Sadness
Not quite sadness—just the ache that comes before it. The hour of still things.