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March 7, 2015
There is a pocket of time in the mornings when I have delusions of persecution, aka "why do I have to get out of bed" sickness. It usually lasts five minutes, until I briefly fall asleep, and then wake up and subject myself again to the perceived awful pain of having to get up. I remember cracking the code of how to stop this, wake up to better mornings, wake up to better versions of me. But I don't know, somehow I mange to go back to hating the very act of waking. Anyway, after those five minutes I'm good.