i need to read the confessions of a semi-successful author when i get home tonight. maria gave me a newspaper clipping about a short story contest for mid-western writers, she wants me to submit. listening to bob dylan’s “tangled up in blue” has brought a small, sorta melancholy smile to my face. i’m not quite sure why.
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But all the while I was alone
The past was close behind,
I seen a lot of women
But she never escaped my mind, and I just grew
Tangled up in blue.