“𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒆𝒍𝒔𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑺𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒃𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒐𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒉 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒖𝒃𝒔𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒆.”

When it's faintly gloomy, there's no phoebe, there's no asterisk that illuminates, only darkness that rises down the road. It's so hard to see a situation so empty, it's so hard to comprehend the soul. When I sat and looked in the mirror, the lantern hoped that the effulgence would be strenuous to implement existence and avoid all kinds of nightmares.
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