dear diary:

i’m feeling a bit like an unfaithful lover, having gone to the schnitzer friday night when the oregon symphony was nowhere to be found.  instead of sibelius or stravinsky, it was the magically dreamy sufjan stevens on stage.  perhaps i need to bring flowers tonight for the orchestra.  it meant nothing.  it was just a fling – i swear.  please take me back.  it’ll never happen again.  it’s me, not you.

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