And then, something happened. I let go. Lost in oblivion. Dark and silent and complete. I found freedom. Losing all hope was freedom.
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If I did have a tumor, I'd name it Marla.
I'll bring us through this. As always. I'll carry you - kicking and screaming - and in the end you'll thank me.
With insomnia, nothing's real. Everything's far away. Everything's a copy of a copy of a copy.
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