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It's lunchtime, so I'm taking a little break from work to write.

I'm not sure how personal to be here. I know no one is reading this. (I've only told one person about it, and I doubt even if I told more people, they'd start reading it either.) Still, I can't talk about other people on here. And I don't want to talk too much about myself either--that would be a private journal kind of thing, not a blog thing.

Still, I don't want to ramble just for the sake of posting (kind of like I'm doing now).

I guess it seems like this blog ought to be about something, and not just a collection of random thoughts that spill out of me unedited. It's called No Closet: Life Out, so I guess it's supposed to be about life outside the closet. But the thing is, life outside the closet is essentially just life, and we all know how boring that is.

I got a new car a few weeks ago. That's supposed to be exciting. And I got a promotion at work. And I'm getting ready to go on vacation next month. None of those things is any different in the closet or out of the closet or whether there was a closet to have once been in in the first place.

I guess I could write about my short-lived relationship with Arvin. But that feels so personal. I could also write about why I don't want to write about things that are personal.

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