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Wednesday, October 13, 2004
I think not. If I shake it, I just might break it.
It's bad enough my spirit is broken, at least my body's intact.
I talking utter shite, but it's 6:20am, what do you expect.
I'm at work, no surprise there. I'm finishing in about an hour. That I can deal with and I'm not back for about 60 hours. Ok, 2 and 1/2 days, I return on Friday night.
I love working nights, though I know they are not suitable for everyone. It's my anti-social nature which causes me to prefer working anti-social hours. It would nearly kill me to go back to a normal Monday to Friday, 9 to 5, kinda life. So I'm not going to, at least not anytime soon.
I just re-read the letter I wrote to my father (NLH 3/10/04) and it choked me up, just now, at my desk. Not smart, not clever, not me in control.
I'm still not sure I get it, that's he's gone. I don't think I've let myself really feel it, I don't even know if I can. Intellectually I understand, but emotionally, well I guess I am too detached. Who knows, it's all psychobabble nonsense. I just miss him.
Work and death, tell me this entry shouldn't be on the "BEST" of the hippy page. You don't have to tell me, I already know.