As the day comes to an increasingly abrupt end at which point bed should be inevitable; I write. Write as my last means of scrounging meaning in my evening spent listening to audio books on my computer. Deception point is a well written, if hardly realistic book not in any way about blocks of ice. The book takes place in the arctic. Today I also, earlier, although after breakfast and while not getting help on php from a professor who is supposed to know about it, finished my Quadra-Bike of which I need to remember to take a picture of. I had this big fight at the height of the might where I bite on a kite, all panted in white, and when it’s in sight someone turns on the light and then there is no more fright. Yeah, good night.

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