There's too much to say, and we end up saying nothing, in silence, observing, or writing endless poems in our head that sometimes escape into the ether and who knows maybe we're all receiving, maybe all thinking along the same lines, watching and listening to starlings, cats and dogs and coyotes talk about life. 

 Two starlings talking. The plot of the regime is still to take the world by force, they're invading everywhere and killing people left and right, ahh, but people want to live, and are waking up to this unprecedented and existentially threatening evil, and the resistance is growing. It's not too late, while we yet live.