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Journaling, memories, mh 

An uncomfortable thing I’ve been realizing lately is idealizing where I was in the 90s is natural; the combination of life without obvious Republican control, obvious social crises, and unending poverty would be unrepeatable, even without adding in my age or Ann Arbor at the time. No matter how sane, skilled or loved I am, in what little time I have left, external circumstances are never going to be that good again, and I have to accept that.

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