The clouds around you have increased in intensity until they are completely gelatinous sticky. A scattered light emanated into the gel. You see it in ice glass. The sound became odorless, and even the colors lost their taste. And you felt the coldness of your limbs. And chills running through your body. Then you were torn off from you. You rise, you feel your distance from your surroundings, and you become nostalgic for you. And our times moved away between you. You look and behold, two carry you, piercing our crises into a deep nebula.1
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