In An Attempt of Comfort, I Realize to Realize Nothing

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In words, in the very thought of words, I find the only comfort I am able to give myself. Not the words as memory, or as anticipation, or as honouring.

The words as their very presence, because any more and I shall gain them, meaning I will lose them, meaning I will need to restart somehow.

But no meaning, in fact, and no gains and losses, in fact, but in universe, and in my heart, in the one single atom of life.

You, of all people, should understand this. You, of all people, I know not to disturb.


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