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her head hits her pillow, body sweaty and achy. she lies there, staring at the corner of the room where the ceiling meets the wall meets the floor. eyes are heavy and begging for rest but when she closes them a movie of her thoughts flicker against her closed lids. “i can’t keep doing this,” she thinks to herself as she anxiously awaits the need for sleep to kick in. her mind keeps telling her stay lucid, to think about what has happened and what can happen later. the funny thing is when she tries to remember what she was doing last night she can’t remember. so she thinks back to what she was doing a year ago and how that person seems so far away. just a memory of the tired, slumped mass lying on the bed staring at the ball of dust and cat hair rolling around the floor. a memory that is getting harder and harder to forget.
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