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Confined Spaces

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The chill of the steel bars against my skin is a constant reminder. Each night I sleep/rest/drift, haunted by the silence/void/empty hum that surrounds me. Outside, life pulses/throbbs/vibrates with an energy I can https://www.whitecollaradvice.com/lessons-from-a-prison-quiet-room-at-5-a-m/

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