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I find myself unable to focus for long periods of time. Instead of writing, I perseverate. My thoughts moving in all directions – front-to-back, right-to-left, back-to-front, left-to-right. I say, “If I only had more time.” Then when I have the time I tell myself, “I’ll do it later.”
These people live in isolation on a farm of misery, growing intolerable crops as they squeeze haterade from their cows’ teats and mix marijuana into bales of hay so they can ride around on their high horses.