May 19, 2010
I told you my poetry, half against my will, and you make fun. You said you liked it and I believe you, yet you have to always make a joke. When will it stop being jokes?


No.


I take that back. I rather have the jokes than the hostility. Either way, I'm going to lose in the end. We're just a bunch of losers. Losers. We didn't talk long last night because you were tired--finally. It seems all I ever do is fall asleep on the phone while you do whatever.


Yankees lost last night. Oh, joy...

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