Waking up is hard to do.
So much harder than it used to be.
So hard to start the day gagging on a body count before breakfast.
So hard looking into the bathroom mirror, still trying to absorb the sight of so many lifeless bodies on the tube at the foot of my bed.
Who am I that I should still have the privilege of brushing my teeth?
After seeing the sight of so many who died while I slept?
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