January the first was an exciting day, I tried some Ch hang, hung out a bunch and my hope was the new year would begin with tonnes of writing. That... didn't happen. Wish I had, but didn't do it. What to do, I couldn't force myself, it wasn't the right situation.
And this the new year begins with self-forgiveness , and whole load of setting the future self for so much more work. As the future me, this is the sort of low-quality output that's produced. Nothing meatier, I'm running out of ideas man!
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