It's Sunday, the day of many's religious revivals before starting their week of sinful activities over again. I know not why I'm writing this. I should be celebrating, happy for my good fortune, but I know not why I have these feelings of regret. Not for my actions, but something deeper, as if I'm changing one other's winds of fortune. Why must it be this way? Can we not be passive observers, or must our observations always enact some force on the event?
Today is not a day without meaning, but it's one that I've yet to discover.
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