This cannot be true. We are scrambled all of a sudden. Who are we? Who is talking? Who does the talking for us? Who fragmented us like this? Who put two worlds in one screen? How can this be?
I know you. And I know you know me. And I know you know that I know you. And you know it too. And you know that I know you. We are of the same breed, once, or soon. But we can’t decide. Must we? Must we choose which face we will wear today? Can’t we be just sheep?
Potamotrygorgeous is here.
“I thought I was the biggest confusor?”
Confession sheep stepped in. To listen, not to judge. How could he?
“Here to observe, indeed. But must say I feel some of your scramblings too.”
I know this is real because I pictured it, but look at it, this is hurting everything inside me. It’s not the way it should be.
Confession sheep felt it first. He fell over.
No, trying to be picture pretty doesn’t help. This is just wrong.