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Language Log

Saturday, Jun. 09, 2018 - 6:51 p.m.

Lengthy crying about being given his snack in the wrong bowl. Lengthy crying about wanting grits and how they ARE DONE NOW, when they aren’t.

I have a headache and just want to lay here.

Also J mentioned maybe a trip back in September, contingent on many factors. Or maybe, I thought, a trip back during the holidays. I was talking with kind of everyone about how the beach calls us back. How there is nothing like it elsewhere, and people from elsewhere who think there is only think that because they don’t know in their soul what it is to grow up with the ocean. I thought maybe people would try to talk me out of going during the winter, but as one person said, the beach is always perfect. There is no bad time to go.

I forgot what it is like to be in a place where when you pass someone when walking, they say hello. I never minded it because it wasn’t significant, it’s how I was raised. It felt like home too.

Anyway. Still processing it all. I spent a chunk of the time just sobbing alone in my room because I missed it so.

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