I used to copy John until he told me to stop following him around and get a life. Problem is I don't have a center or identity intrinsic to me. In fact, I never used that word until I heard my sanitation guy say, garbage is not intrinsically good or evil. There is no past or future. Garbage lives in the moment.
I was thoroughly impressed and began following him around on his route until he got transferred and I slid into depression.
My therapist says I need to discover something that is mine alone and build around that. All I had was my voodoo doll of Ren, a writing machine who intimidated everyone. I stuck pins all over that doll, but nothing slowed her. So I copied her style. Write fast, pause, write fast, pause. Except I had nothing to say. So I copied off Keith, who sat on my other side.
I'm thinking of trading in my Russell duck hunting cap for a wool number similar to what Christina wears because I've never copied anything from her and it's just time.
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