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Unknowing
Singing Agathe
wilowisp
I am tired all the time. All the time. It doesn't just rest in my bones, either. It's like a fatigue somewhere else, little pocket corners of me that are just giving up. Maybe it's the weather. Maybe it's the job. Maybe it's brain-dying and the body sloughing itself across the days.

And maybe, more likely, it's just the pressure of being an adult.

?

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