Happy Life
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I sleep with my head facing the center of the room, and sometimes, when I lie in the dark, I imagine that the ceiling consists of two concrete slabs, with the boundary between them running right above my neck, and that I'm just lying there, and then the ceiling collapses, and one of the slabs falls down, perfectly flattening my head, while the rest of my body below the neck remains lying there as if nothing happened.
My sword, my trusted ally, unphased by my aspect.
