So the lesson started, as usual, sharp but blunt. Weary the grim reaper is today, swinging his worn scythe at the lackadaisical class. A slow torturous death is guaranteed. Each pathetic swipe, reminiscent of classical philosophers high on imported Chinese opium, grazes our heads. Not powerful enough to scalpel our heads, but significant enough to leave a nasty scar.
the bright light above seems so inviting....
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