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I've been torturing myself, this whole past hour and a half -
I had to scrounge up food, and a drink to quench my dry, Saharan throat,
I've had pills to take, and desperately needed to seek a bathroom,
Yet, I've reached a point of depression, where I only follow a one-track mind -
I had to complete my duties more than anything else;
The work presented before me was greater in importance than anything else,
Even my basic human needs, I decided.
Besides, I am not able to face anyone else, right now.
I am ashamed.
Who could ever love a good-for-nothing failure, such as I?
And you claim, without hesitation, that I will be okay?
You say that things will be alright, so long as I just try?
But you don't even know that.
I don't even know that.
Nobody can really be too sure of my fate.
Until it happens, anything is possible -
And with my sour luck,
I shall only fall deeper into this deep, dark abyss.
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