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some days are heavy staring at the ceiling hours stop how blank a wall can bemonotony of a whirring fanlet me lend a storyof angst and agony of a breached contractby staying aliveenduringwhy?is there anything left to do?apart from the rut meaninglessthey say your sufferings are attached to the bodythe soul is free of painyou are the soulthe brahmani breathe in deepi wish to feel the soul noneis it dead? the body whineslisten to me...heal me i giv...
