I have lived this before. I have lived it all before. Too many times to
count. Each time is a bit shorter, but the end is always the same. My
life repeats right up to my suicide.
I always believed in an afterlife, and for years that stayed my hand. But it wasn't enough, and I never expected this.
I see it all play out again. I hear my thoughts echo from the past. I
feel my body move. And though ice cream and strain, I can't change
course. I'm a spectator tour to every detail of my life.
Each time start a little later, I've noticed. I used to look forward to
it. Now… now it scares me. What happens when there is nothing left to
repeat? Will I think to oblivion? Be held for eternity in the moment of
my death? Or something else?
Too late. I feel the knife. It's ending! Oh, it's ending!...
I have lived this before.
End.
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