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Tuesday, February 17, 2004
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I had a nightmare this morning and woke up screaming. And my lover didn't stir. It was terrible. My heart and subconcsious have formed a diabolical union to hurt me so deeply that they have to wait until the un-reality of dreams to find spots tender enough to drive their daggers home. No, I don't want to talk about it. This pain is not real. This paint is not real. This pain is not.
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