Sonic. Sonic. Nurse. Thursday.

When I open my eyes I can’t help but wonder how much was a dream, how much was reality and how much was imagination.

There are differences, however subtle, however prominent, in each of those.

But the main point is,

When I open my eyes I wonder how much of what I had seen was a dream.

It doesn’t matter what death says,

The nurse will come and heal me.

Even if it’s not a Thursday.

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