The night was anxious. It was disturbed. It was desired. It has fallen. It has created. It has destroyed. It knows me. It can see into me. I can feel it swelling, and I can feel it pulling me into its abyss. It has us all. It has my mind. It has my weak heart. I can count the minutes, of the day, until the night returns. I can count the seconds too. I know what it does. I know why it wants me. I know what it thinks. I know I am crazy. I am right.
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