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Nightmare.
Soon the injustices of this world will be made corporeal. I soon will have to face the pity, hatred, envy, rage, and the solemn vertigo of life. Death is as a stone beneath my foot, ready for me to stumble. And in the wake of the stampede I lay broken, hurt, worried. And when at last I think myself ready to be rid of it all, I find myself upon a bed, sweating through the cold, my hell all too real around me. Thus I woke up.
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