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With your fashionable frown.

In November I decided that I would write a song every day for the entire month. That did not work out as well as I had hoped. Nobody has the time to sit down and write songs like that. By the end of the month I had precious little to show for my proposed efforts: three songs about states I do not like that much, a couple of nonsense songs, and innumerable fragmented ideas.

And an ongoing story about zombies.

So I laughed it off and moved on with my life. I did not want to think about those songs too much. They are kind of shameful.

I walked to my room with my backpack. I haven't used a backpack in a long time. It felt strange to have the weight evenly distributed across my shoulders. My roommate wasn't there again. I emptied out my backpack onto the shelf: two textbooks. Kind of a waste of time, I guess. That's okay. I'm used to doing things like that.

As I made my way back across campus my mind decided to think about the songs I had tried to make before. Then they started to develop. Then I had three songs in my head. I wish this had happened in November when I had the time to work on them. I sped home to write them down in my book.

This was not as interesting a story as it seemed when I started writing it.

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