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I'm sick.
Both mind and heart. Body will soon come. Even in my sleep these things come for me. They wake me up by striking my body, making it twitch and making violent movements - to open the eyes. They want me to wake up and see this lonely world. They want me to wake up and be alone. A lonely room - a lonely world. These things make me feel small.... with no power and nobody I want to make them disappear but these things... ...are ME. spoken. at 7:58 AM |
"Point your gun in another direction — now that you've cried yourself to sleep."
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