I hope these elevens find you well. As these synchronicities sink in chronically in the cities patterns emerge and disperse as the ever growing flame burns up and out (often the same thing).
An old flame with new fuel. New rules, old fools. Weapons and tools. The family jewels. The diamond in the rough of which we cannot get enough.
It ends as it begins, a candle in the wind. Here today, but also here tomorrow because it is us who are gone tomorrow. It was always only a thought which cannot go away as long as we think of it. We never miss it because as soon as we remember it we are thinking of it so it has returned.
It mathematically amounts,
for it is the thought the truly counts.