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March 9, 2004
Stay in the present, stay in the now. Sleep. Dream of the past, of the things that could have been and of the things that were but will never be again. Dream, knowing that if I wake up you won't be there anymore. Sleep. Tears do nothing but wet my pillow. There isn't enough time, in life, for sleep. I guess that's where death comes in. To make up for all the lost time. So many days I just feel tired bitter world-weary resentful lacklustre cynical worn-out disparaging shattered disillusioned devastated embittered crushed lost angsty discouraged lonely. Look, no ‘jaded'.