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April 25, 2012
Sleep is my mistress, now.

She is all I think about. Every waking moment I dream on consuming her. When the night slides into the sky, I cannot resist her calling. I wander to her arms and embrace and there is nothing I can do to stop myself sinking into her, deeper and deeper until I no longer know who I am or where I am or what is happening.

I want her. I crave her. She can have me any time. Without her, I am a shivering wretch. She is my drug, my one and my all.

I need her.