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It is a dull, meaningless day, even for me.
Sitting here with candles all around me, thinking.
Rhythm pounding into my ears and mind, blocking even the pain.
If I think hard enough, maybe I’ll just float away on a gentle stream of daydreams.
Staying conscious is a task of its own, even with the uppity music clawing at my brain.
Raindrops start to pound on the roof, almost waking me up, all most, but not quite.
If you sound the bugle now, I don’t think I could come back, even to look you in your eyes once more.
There’s nothing more holding on to me anymore, it’s just me, clinging on to the branch on the cliff face of my mind.
I struggle my way through my incoherent screaming thoughts, trying to remember who I am.
Stumbling after the reclusive memories, of me, of you, and everything else that has fled my mind.
I open my eyes, slowly, oh ever so slowly, I see your face, or at least what I think is your face.
Blinking red lights knock me out once again and I can’t