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This Monday fog is leaking into Sunday afternoons where half a dozen tiny spirits creep through empty rooms. And paralyze the fear that I cling to. I tried to tell myself the truth but I quickly lost my nerve. It's the same old story where someone always winds up getting served. And I just can't seem to cope unless I'm blacked out or passed out with my bedroom spinning. My nights are lost now. Half days are dried out. Confused, my head is sick.
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