It’s alright. After so many years of denying it is hard to believe, but there you are falling. Softly into the nothing. The water catches you and breaks your fall. It didn’t hurt. The things you love are floating along side you, until they are also not floating anymore. Thanks to me, thanks to you, the anthropocene. The wind makes the shadows bigger, and smaller, and bigger again. While you’re calmly being taken in the soft, cool nothing. It’s all right, this is alright. The birds can keep singing, they can sit in the branches, far above us. From underneath the surface it sounds dim, dim but beautiful. Because birds sing beautifully. Not shrill. Down here everything sounds softer. We’re finally humble. The beautiful wins, the green wins, the blue wins, the black wins. I love what wins. I also loved what’s losing. But for the greater good. It’s all right. It takes three to seven minutes. You are only aware of the first three of them. You are submerged and in need. Of course you’re in need. You’re allowed to be. But that’s not necessary. You may struggle, but that’s not necessary. Just stay calm and look around. You have good reflexes, They can, against all knowledge, try to bring you back. But that’s not necessary. Gently, your head tilts backwards. You’re unable to talk, and that’s fine. It’s alright. Everything is alright. Reconstruction, recovery. Life will always start again. Not you, but that’s alright. The sun lays a soft blanket of gold. Feel warm and protected under the gold. There it’s more beautiful, it’s better. For a second gold, then blue, then grey, then black. Then green.