Some guy/girl/family in my apartment complex has shared a playlist of “LimeWire Tunes.” Britney Spears AND Etta James. Bob Marley. Meanwhile, I came up with the term “hip-hoppery.”

I was stopped on Central Park South by a psychic the other week. She said everything I’m doing in my life is at odds with my destiny. It’s sad that I look so desperate/gullible that effing psychics are stopping me in the street now.

It’s true that I might need to open up more to people. But I’ve noticed that when I do, they generally cut me off and don’t want to listen. Because I’m a buzzkill.

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