I hate my life.
Nothing ever comes easy.
Nothing is normal.
It is always some fucking intricate situation.
And I grow tired of it.
I am heading to the cabin property for almost a full month to really try to bring this book to reality.
Just me and my dogs and a computer and a hard drive with all my photos on it.
I so dearly wish I was spending this time with someone who loves me. But of course, that is not possible.
It never is.
So I go it alone.
Guess I better fucking get used to that.
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