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Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Story Maybe. I'll keep writing probably.

Every day I do the same thing, and no matter how much I do, or how well I do it, I must do all of it over again the next day. No progress is ever made, nor can it be made. It's an endless crawl uphill and when I finally reach the top, I inevitably find myself at the bottom again, staring upward with dread and gloom at the hill I just climbed. I'm trapped in an endless loop to nowhere. This must be hell. There can be no other conclusion. I know I'm dead. Why can I not wake from this nightmare?