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The need will consume you. The loneliness will eat you alive and spit you out still begging for a lover, a friend, anyone. The voices in your head don’t keep you company nor do they comfort you with lies; they taunt you with a single truth: you are alone. You crawl into bed every night writhing and yearning for lips you never kissed and tongues you never tasted, beseeching strangers to touch you in all the places you bleed and need through, to just stay with you if only for one night, if only for one hour, if only for one moment. But no one comes and you fall asleep crying in the agony of knowing that they never will.

It’s only when I sleep do I know real happiness. To finally escape the real world and all of its troubles, to run away into my imagination with its magical powers to create anything it wants. The dreamworld is my only home. The dreamworld is my only salvation.

She tries to fold herself away inside the old bathrooms and deserted halls. She tries to slither into the crevices in the old floors and dying ceilings. She tries to hide within the dark holes and wet walls of herself. She tries and tries but always fails to get away from them; the moaning memories and dreams and hopes she barely remembers but can never completely forget. They linger on the edge of her conscience torturing the present, beating her out of it. They kick the shit out of her all day and don’t give her the satisfaction of staying with her at night, leaving her with unanswered questions and unfulfilled desires.

If only I can fade into the background of the space-time continuum. If only the gods take me back to nonexistence. If only..

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