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2004-01-13 - 4:29 a.m. dear diary, one class down, three to go. i won't stop being nervous until thursday at 3pm when i can come home and forget about school for 3.5 days. i was worried about the fiction class but the teacher recognized me from the poetry forum a few semesters ago. small world. someone said my style of writing might be too existential for the class, and though it was probably a warning, i gloated anyway. i guess i'm more interested in writing about a lack of conflict that essentially becomes the conflict. the professor said she hoped i could pull it off. so maybe i'll just shortcut and write the crap they want to read. or maybe i'll say fuck them all and do what i want. one thing is certain, something that becomes rapidly apparent every new semester... i won't be making any friends in this class.
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