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Cusp.

It’s four years ago, see, that I began my first Moleskine. I’d begun filling a small notebook two months before, on the day that the seniors the year before us graduated. That one thin notebook now precedes nine identical notebooks that I’ve filled, writing every day since that first sort-of first day of senior year of high school. I’m on Number Eleven now, and beginning first day of senior year of college.

Right now I’m too sleepy to think of much to say, but: hello.

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