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Resurrection Wednesday, Aug. 31, 2005 - My computer had it's semi-annual paralytic seizure, and for two weeks, I didn't care. Today I took the time to fix it, and to celebrate the idiot box's resurrection from the dead, I'm updating my diary, briefly. I think I've been fired from my job as the RFA's ghostwriter. I don't really know, but I dearly hope so. I think these last few months of interaction with the RFA might rank as the most poisonous experience in my life so far, notwithstanding my 11-month stint in prison. If I haven't been fired, I'm gonna quit, for the sake of my creative life, which is starving to death from the lack of joy. Jer and the Fiend have been vacationing in Spain for nearly six weeks. The Fiend will be arriving home in a few days, but Jer has arranged for a leave of absence from school for a semester, and it looks like he'll be living in a European country for the next few months. He's asked me not to reveal his exact location, and I haven't yet been able to summon the energy or inspiration to invent a pseudonymous equivalent. I only found out on Sunday that he'll not be coming home with the Fiend. My predominant reaction to that news was a cavernous and benumbing sense of disappointment. Give me a few more days�in retrospect, disappointment will probably prove to be one of the least important of the many emotional states I'm cycling through. Emotions that I am determined to embrace and savor and even cherish, because they seem like treasures compared to the overwhelming desolation people are going through in the wake of Katrina. last eleven:
Sa r'ji�o oss�vel meninonceiv �o poshik m�'�nch uscantebatahla o�r musiu o�r muiko.
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