The nights where I don’t dream (or at least don’t remember my dreams) are the best. Just nothing. Nothing to hope for, nothing to aspire to, nothing to allow me to try to do stuff and have it fail miserably.

Dead sleep. That’s where it’s at. Just me, alone, but somehow more comforting than the loneliness that I feel in my waking hours.

I just want to go back to sleep.

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