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It's 4AM. I have downed a bottle of Irish whiskey and I have Exist by Alex G on a loop in VLC.
The sun is rising, slowly, painting my room a dark, pale blue.
Everything is too much, but that's fine. Nothing is real anyway.
I'll be getting up in a few hours. I have to. There's no reason; I just have to.
I don't know why I exist.