It is on a day like this one,
a little later a little earlier
that you discover without surprise
that something is wrong
that you don’t know how to live
and you will never know
“This mundus tenebrosus, this shaddowy world of Mankind, is sunk into Night; there is not a Field without its Spirits, nor a City without its Daemons, and the Lunaticks speak Prophesies while the Wise men fall into the Pitte.”
Peter Ackroyd | Hawksmoor
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