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Oh nooOOOOooooo! I feel so bad right now because bathsheba took her diary down. It's like she fucking died or moved away I guess is the more tactful analogy. But I don't feel tactful, I feel terrible. And I know I have her real e-mail address around here and I could just write to her, but it's not the same at all. Because I am no good at writing letters. I like the diary because it's like walking around your neighborhood at twilight and looking in people's windows. You get to see slice of life, real-people dioramas. Once in a while, somebody sees you and maybe they wave, and maybe you wave back. Sometimes they're aware of you walking by and you can't even tell. I like it that way.
I always meant to go back and read her d. from the beginning but I never did. And now there are all those stories I'll never read, and all the new stories I'll miss. And there is no one else like her; there's no replacing her.