I woke up with a severe headache today. Probably it's from all the crying I did from Ed's funeral or staring at phone screens trying to escape from the hollow stupor of yesterday. I might be just exhausted from the late nights etched in the diary and watching World Cup football in the pub since last week. Contemplative walking is hardly sagacious. But my eyes hurt just writing this blog. Got to do less eye-straining activities. Maybe finishing my book would be a start, less painful and would allow to go to the bookstore again and buy more books.
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