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Saturday, September 26, 2009

It's cinnamon season

Autumn, the anti-spring--when colors bloom for death and not life. Your parting gift. Everything from here on revolves around warming yourself internally. Mulling spices. I'm catching cold. I woke up with a sore throat and I thought a cup of tea would be a quick fix, but 2 cups later I'm not feeling much better. I can feel my glands swelling. I can feel my sinuses bracing for impact. I feel the sick kind of tired. Curse me, never wanting to shut the windows when I sleep. I've been feeling a tickling in my chest for the past day or two, but blamed all the smokers around me.

I was supposed to go to an arts festival in West Philly today with my friend Chris, but looks like I'm going to pass on that. My throat is feeling worse by the minute. Garbage.

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