I wake up, and I'm still here. Same flat, same year: 1973-- only now the telly won't work. No more contact with the real world, just this journal. But I'm not dead, the OD didn't do it-- they must've brought me out. The coma within the coma, gone.
But they couldn't wake me completely. Oh God, please. I just want to wake up. I want to go home
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