The ink has thickened and is refusing to be written; all of our realities have frozen. The times we are living in
are dark, filled with violence, terror, global trauma and unrelenting grief. Our present is covered in shadows that
stifle speech and conceal the truth beneath layers of quiet. Words remain stuck, the ink stays still, and reality is
hidden.
Yet still, we wait.
We wait for the truth to return to the light, for silence to break, and for the ink to thaw. In the midst of all of this
suffering, there remains a silent hope that one day the ink will flow once more, our voices will be heard, and the
secrets will be exposed.