Craned over these old notebooks with the sorest neck of the year, remembering the old times. In the next few days, the fruits of this project will appear. I can definitely see how I’ve progressed as a writer, if I wish to be deemed as one. She said to me, “I’m glad you’re not going to those poetry readings any more – they sound like such assholes.”
Such sloppy writing! Sooner or later I’m going to stumble across something I actually like, then I’ll begin with the first entry. “Hey, check out 1992! I was such a young man trying to do what was right, confused over the young ladies, but still trying to read the sacred books and be involved in japaism.”
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