" I am afraid. I am not solid, but hollow. I feel behind my eyes a numb, paralyzed cavern, a pit of hell, a mimicking nothingness. I never thought. I never wrote, I never suffered. I want to kill myself, to escape from responsibility, to draw back abjectly into the womb. I do not know who I am, where I am going… "
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" I will never be a morning person, for the moon and I, are too much in love. "
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