sometimes i can’t tell if i have been dismembered or if i am paralysed. my heart feels like it is beating far and away in a glass jar, shriveling smaller with each passing day. big events become meaningless, and good friends feel shadowy and phantomlike, as if i had only observed a motion picture about them from another plane. if i had to choose one moment to live eternally in the after life, which would it be? the stairs, at IAB, the purest bliss i had ever experienced.

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