in the absence of matttr, there is nothing but the void. the curvature of time, arcing ever toward it's opposite - an endless wave of eternal brilliance. so too does the world slip away into the lip of your crosshairs. 'tunnel vision' they call it, when purpose is tuned to such high a focus. all fades from view, and the world shrinks to a few who, (barely hold onto) connections between ye, thoughts as scattered as me, like zooming in on a map. the edges fade away, light seems beamed right from they, who await at our earliest composure. in Overwatch, playing a dps character has a lot of nuance. you need to balance skill with your honor, teaching one another like it's a sport. why are we so toxic? together we might overcome that burden. i've spoken many times before about how coordination is better by far, when centralized not in the eye of the beholder. priorities to be, if we are anything of what we claim to be, are keeping our own house in order. whose fault is our ire? which tames the domain, in each and all of our games, can we point to as what'd keep us hired? yet purpose have we, whose thoughts meld as one tired, divinity? something like that. more like... a manifestation of each and everyone's collective unconscious. the humanity in what you have created. the world would look very different to an untethered. might even say they are orbiting it. like a moon. what a concept, that planets would be able to speak! yet here we are, with years of advice and guidance for our, friends who are youthful and most treasured. Advice from the moon, was our gift to our soon, most misbegottenist of speach lyricyclists. ambiguity is clear, simple and fearless miss dear, yet all of your poems are each a bit bolder! what context must we, veiled and terrifying are the, mixed consents of what you intend. a new jesus for me? what a gift we shall see, as grace once again does behold us! computers have we, infinite messages can be stored for our hopeless! each problem a different solution, to guide our friends back at our homes. with eyes intent on ye, whose leaders are free, without who we couldn't have held fast? Nazis are evil. They worship death - a literal death cult. what other reason might we, have prayed to our own lord for absolution? What horrors must we, slave children to the, most worrisome of hostes be told to? like spiraling hourglasses, layered once more upon'st our asses, so too does time ever reach'st'd.