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One favorite spot to write;
One favorite spot to read;
One favorite spot to relax;
One favorite spot to think.
Well that’s not too bad, you say. But the dream does not end. The ex-lovers contort into new awful forms. They lament. They condemn. They wail and scream. The dream does not end. The dream does not end.
Oh no, you realize. Oh no.
I’m not dying.
I’m already dead.