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I am now almost without energy. Sometimes I twitch! Even walk a little. But then I'm like an ageing pet, spending much of its life resting or quite asleep. I say I'm well, lying in my own dirt, keeping the truth hidden by camouflage. I am without address or voice; will less; no more than light upon a rock, a glint without the power of a spark, flameless yet self-consuming; that which might have been - as leaves may roll themselves, fall, crumble to dust, not even knowing combustion