There is a storm coming. This, I don't know why I feel, but something in my gut whispers low of some cataclysm to be. It might just be a holdover from my last madness, when I thought that I was a prophet, but it might be something more: as if the air is steeped in it, that there is a certain smell that precedes the hard rains, and I just happened to catch a wind of it. I really don't know what to do about it. I guess my writing about it here is something, and perhaps the only correct thing I can do — after all, it might just be paranoia, and all of you who read this know that I am still a little mad. If I were to gain access to some global media, I might cause something of a panic; either that or get laughed at.... My friends, let us hope that this is just some lunacy of your prophet-would-be Stand; the air to me is not still, but is pregnant with some wild call.
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9:39am monday, 3rd november
Strange, many others that I've talked to feel the same, dreaming of the end of the world, visions of disaster. I feel it myself. It could just be the paranoia of the war-filled world or it could be something else...
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