My name is Michael.
It wasn't, but a Red Sweater
Wrapped around a girl is calling me
michaelmichaelmichael
I don't really understand yet,
But I know that
My name was Michael
And now it is again.
What I really don't understand
Is why my Red Sweater girl
Wants to be called Eric.
If there is a special Hell for writers, it would be the forced contemplation of their own works.
-John Dos Passos
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