A Wordless Lime

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Today, I am at a loss.

There are things I need to write. For example, I have two essays, for unrelated purposes, and I should definitely be working on a story. If only stories came out of me like poems. Then again, if I had to turn them in such that others were required to read them, I am sure they would not flow out so easily. As it is, anyone reading my poetry is doing so by choice, which makes me feel less self-conscious, I think, and maybe less self-important, too.

One of the essays is very important, and very short, but I am afraid to commit myself to a particular topic and thereby cast out other options, other important arguments and ideas. And I know so little — how can I write something that will show both my awareness of my tiny knowledge and also demonstrate that my brain is interesting and dedicated to learning?

It is a very open-ended essay. I would rather write a poem.

I probably need to call my mother.

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