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why writers drink

"there's a file on here with a name i don't recognise."

"when the heck did i write this? it's kind of confusing."

"oh wait, i see now. i was playing around with the perspective. kind of clever, if i do say so myself."

"i seriously have no recollection of this getting written at all, although the ideas seem kind of familiar."

"this is actually pretty good. better than a lot of the stuff i can remember writing. whatever i was on at the time, i should take it more often."

"with a little clean-up, i think i could submit this for publication. amazing! it's like i somehow wrote myself a little present that i could find and use later. or my computer can do this on its own, which would be a great trick, but wouldn't really give me the same feeling of self-satisfaction. or the cats have evolved. julia, why are you looking at me like that???"

"hm, i haven't left myself a lot of space to get all these things resolved. i hope i didn't cut it off too abruptly." [that's what she said. -ed.]

"unfinished??? unfinished???? you fictional piece of octopus crap! you led me on! i thought i had something and it turns out that i'd started it, forgotten about it and now have absolutely no bloody idea where i was going with it?!?!!! i will take pleasure in deleting your letters, one by one, so i can watch you die!!!!"

"did i just threaten a word document?"

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