update from sparkleup
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@ -32,5 +32,9 @@ I would take up an inordinate amount of space in their hearts and their minds, o
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Falcon died, she slumped against me and left me with her still warm but unalive body, and no amount of weeping, no amount of JD crying, "Come back to me, come back" could change that.
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> And being dead is full of the labor of catching up,
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> as one gradually acquires a sense of eternity.—
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> But the living always make the mistake of too sharp a distinction.\footnote{\cite[17]{duino}}
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I hold in tension within myself the idea that the only way out is through — through to the void, through that narrow gate, through to darkness — and just how unfair it would be of me to choose that.
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((Struggling against the instinct to escape, suicidality))
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