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David Gilmour, Live in Gdansk. Stomach ache. Sore throat. Christina. Trader Joe’s and mechanic. Motorcycle boots and ripped skinny jeans. Plaid hat. New washer and dryer. Scruffy Australian boyfriend. New black tank top. Happy. Tired from work last night. Sabina, but no Shamus. Potato Leek soup. Bread and almond butter. Saxophone. My guitar, The Filthy Whore. Use Somebody. Simon and Garfunkel and George Harrison. Flight Of The Conchords. Knit hat. Leather belt. Advil. Hot tea. Juice. Couch. TV. Kinda sick. ¬†Write, write, write, blog.