There's no creativity in this field. All that you've got to do to survive is to keep in track with the train of thoughts. This place is already as depressing as it is, with or without your presence. You clocked in day in day out without any hope for sunlight, and turns out you need it to stray yourself from depression. Patients come and go. All that you could remember were the diagnoses, never the names. There're two constants here: the mad chirping corvus at dawn, and everyone trying to cover their asses.

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