Hope.
Soft white.
It happens when precious truths are spoken.
It sounds like classic hymns.
It smells like autumn sea air.
Hope.

Despair.
It smells like oncoming sickness in the nose.
It tastes like acorns.
It sounds like a minor key played.
It feels like a weighted blanket.
It looks like reality with a clarity and deep shadow.
Despair.

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