I wrote about one thing, but now it seems it was about two, I think. What a quite strange day this has been for one to mourn. I have everything. Even still, I mourn. I know we are in danger, but no one can see. Synchronicity. It goes on all around me. I watch it happen. I feel it moving through my life and other lives. It ticks like a clock.

I wrote about one thing, but now it seems it was about two. How strange. It’s a dark morning. Darker than I’ve ever seen. Black as a dark soul. Dark as death, not night. It’s morning. There’s no sunlight. It’s a dark morning.

I wrote about one thing, but now, it seems, it was about two. It’s dark. I can see a star. That’s the only light I see. It’s not bright enough.

I wrote about one thing, but now, it seems, it was about two. So dark.