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Brief flashes of being alive return as I sit eating breakfast at a local cafe, the sense of being someplace, of being open, not enclosed, numb, dead to the world.
Walked down this morning, head full of thoughts, too much to keep listening to music.
How does one become so trapped in the world? The prison and the key.
I don't seem to be able to sleep more than a few hours. Wears on me some but not with the same despair and spiritual exhaustion that it once did.
There seems a future now.
