The light bulb has finally come on and, with full realization, I am grateful. I had thought I felt something and wanted something, however, the advance notice of the foghorn laid clear my direction. Although I had opposed the direction, I see that had I got what I thought I wanted, I would be running for my life as the idea is not ideal. Nay! A fool’s wish is best wished for and never exacted nor enacted. Oh the tragedy it would have created. Some tragedies create lovely literature whilst others make none. The unfortunate, which is truly fortunate, circumstance remains simplistic and acts as a cradle of safety in which I will nestle and become part of while maintaining an unnamed role.
How do you feel? I am not sure that I do.
What do you see? Not much. How about you?
What do you taste? It is not the bitters of hate.
What do you hear? I hear it’s too late.
How does it smell? It could be worse.
What do you think? Juxtapose a blessing with a curse.
Eight is Ogdoad, that which when tipped, represents ad infinitum. However, nine being Ennead is fine and mine. Ennead, for all intents and purposes, represents both the beginning and the end much like Uroboros (zero) for a return to Monad (one) is inevitable. How might Ouroboros come to Monad? In its constant coming into being and not, the plausibility of the virtual remains. And, while in its virtual nature, all things are possible.
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