
I feel the same now. Not only have I fired shots in the dark, it turns out I have fired blank shots in the dark. And regret is creeping up on me, slimy and slick. Like a goddamn snake. The other thing I fear so much. I hate it when I have to watch two separate halves of me fight. You should have stoopid, you shouldn't fuckin have... And I don't know if I'll ever be as good as I want to be, if I'll ever be as good as I could have. If only I had let myself find out. If only I can let go of this feeling...And so the fight continues.
I just wish we could bury the damn hatchet over this. I want to be able to smile and think, "There'll always be more mushrooms to pick." Or more importantly, "There'll always be different mushrooms to pick." I'm going now to look for Cherry Coke, hush up my fighting selves and get down to some staring at pages of my Auditing book.
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