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A long sentence.
I think that if my nighttime semi-awake thoughts were to take physical form, they’d look somewhat like a horde of maniacal lemmings, swarming over everything in their way and eventually all jumping off a metaphorical cliff (that represents what? You tell me, Freud) into a metaphorical ocean (your turn, Jung), and hereby efficiently waking me up for another round of frantic manic panic.
