133 - Are You Sure?
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The Masked Figure in a Black Satin Mask
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and so I decided to take both. The one traveler I split myself good by a process I barely understood. A third me slither'd, neath the undergrowth. Through the trees I could see myself walk, merely me, but I started to hate him for if I am real, then he is the mock. We turned as one, as one began to talk, each quoting the other verbatim. It turned out, there never was a difference. This has been traffic. More soon, or maybe just this again, but with a slightly different wording. We'll see.
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