Nothing terrifies a soul more than that which can't be reasoned with, that which isn't known. It's scary, what you can't yet see or feel- what you can't predict. It's like the stage's dark fourth wall, where the pitch black, motionless susurrus is expecting- waiting to be pleased.
I'm no fortune teller; I can't tell you what happens next. So forgive me rhyme and reason; I can't reason with your eyes or smile, negotiate with your voice, besides. You may as well leave sense behind, it doesn't want to witness the irrational. This isn't a screenplay- you won't lose lives -just sanity, hearts, reasons to smile- and those are replaceable anyway.
I'm no fortune teller; I can't tell you what happens next. So forgive me rhyme and reason; I can't reason with your eyes or smile, negotiate with your voice, besides. You may as well leave sense behind, it doesn't want to witness the irrational. This isn't a screenplay- you won't lose lives -just sanity, hearts, reasons to smile- and those are replaceable anyway.
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