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72 hours later
Staring at an imaginary dot on the ceiling while drowning myself in work. I figured if I continue thinking, I'll torture myself to insanity, so I have to stop. To stop, I must work, work out and read fiction; not fiction that has happily ever afters, but rather fictions where things don't work out that well after all. That said, the imaginary dot on the ceiling is trying to tell me something that I can't understand.  And I'm trying not to reach out to my phone.

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