08/09/17, 6:05pm, sitting at the steps of the 54rd st library reading terrance hayes, gentle measures

— and though this profoundly disappoints me, I now realize that I have spent my life not leaving traces because I do not want to see them later, or I do not know, simply, where to put them when I leave, change; and though I know rationally that it's not too late, I can't help but feel that I am too far behins, that anything I do now will be endlessly embarassing, and yet I know that it is this constant feeling of being behind that has partly gotten me to this situation in the first place, and so I know I need to just get the fuck started with what I'm not yet sure —

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