Damn, today sucks. Death swings a mean scythe through the Ides of July.
So here’s a preemptive Rest In Peace, World. I can’t keep up with the sad news. Consider my garments rent, my lamentations made.
Oh World, where once I strode upon you with love in my heart for the strange and myriad forms around me, where once I could not walk without their voices resounding in my ears, oh World, now I turn my empty eyes away to gaze upon the fallow ground, and now hear only the wind, whispering, howling, shrieking as it may, the dust of bones chaffing between my toes. Oh World. Oh World.