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4:15 p.m. - January 12, 2004 I should be proud of myself, take pleasure in accomplishments, say, Good job, Jason. The fruits of labor are sweet indeed but the thoughts running around are automatic doom-and-gloom, poor quality poems delivered without polish, bad feelings overall. You know, I'm tired of being like this, of feeling guilty when someone compliments me, dismissing out of hand anything contrary to self-perception. And knowing is half the battle so it's said, so what's the remaining half? Enough of being blase, non-committal: I'm feeling both guilty and pleased, happy and proud, wholly content. Eh. It was an effort. To read or not to read: It isn't the question. I'm going to reply affirmatively, say Yes! I'll do it! and persuade myself that I can do a fine job again and that it is okay if my voice wavers at the more emotional pieces and nobody thinks ill of me when I do. My stomach lurched.
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