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-3:37AM, Sun. May 2nd, 2021- As I run my fingers over this keyboard, that may I just say is in dire need of a dusting, I can't help but feel a sick nostalgia set in that makes my stomach turn.
Humanity in it's essence Is held to a pause No more touch No more connection Voices gain power in numbers The numbers have diminished This is not a time for change This a hault Or is it
Hey, I guess it's been a little while. This house of ours has gotten a little bit messy. I understand. It's partly my fault,
Power. Pain is power and power kills. I never sleep, sleep is the cousin of death. Every creed, every colour, every race. Our commonality. We are all one in death.
I invite you to gently feel the faint mist of dawn dust your face with dew. Feel the heavy warmth as the sun breaks the horizon and casts its shadows across the canvas of earth.