I have been writing in a journal on an almost-daily basis since I was 17 years old. This is a record of me going through each entry from the beginning, and commenting on the me from fifteen years ago.

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This is one of those times when bed feels really wonderful. I wish sleep could always be as exquisite as it is when you feel the drag of complete weariness dragging you down, when the mattress just hugs you so close that you can feel it’s love as you slip off into the sleep that you’ve been begging for. Mmmm, yeah.

As I’m writing this, I’m dead tired. This entry has inspired me to go to bed. Good night!