
I knew a fellow who kept a small leather journal. I can only surmise what he wrote in it: poems, ideas, a list of people to kill. He would only use pencil and when it was full he would go back and erase it all from the first page to the last. He said it was like recycling, but after a while the pages just turned from white to gray with bits of eraser all over them. Eventually they would fall out, but he kept on writing. When asked why he didn't use an inkpen he would grunt and bark back in a gruff voice, "Too permanent."

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