Wednesday, December 17, 2003
This morning, as I was lying in bed and attempting to draw myself out of comatose, I was terrified to realize that I have no direction for the coming year. For 22 years I followed a rather distinct, well-cut path and now it seems as though I've taken an awful turn and have no idea where to go. I find myself in this situation far too many times, though in a less symbolic manner. I'm terrible with directions and often have to think much to hard to distinguish my left from my right, only in these situations a simple phone call to my father, a human atlas of sorts, seems to fix things quite well. I've been living under the same roof as my father for seven months now, an amazing feat all in its own, and am no closer to finding my way. Human atlas my ass.
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