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You woke up in the middle of the floor. you can't fall any farther if you've already hit the bottom. you say the nightmares are getting longer. and you can't help but to notice that you can't breathe anymore. oh no, oh no. if the stars decide to explode. you might as well let them do what they want. because your tiny hands, they're just made of bones. and that won't change much. you woke up in the middle of the floor. you can't fall any farther if you've already hit the bottom