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the apathy is incredible, it no longer only exists in my mind but is physical. it takes its form in the pure lethargy which continues to soak my body every day. there is no hope or despair, i’d rather be here or there, it wouldn’t matter, it couldn’t. writing no longer seems relevant, or even an option. i float between ideas and motion and memory. the past isn’t realistic, the present is barely tangible, and the future gives waves of nausea.