sometimes the conversations that go on unrecorded will be lost in time, like everything else that has come before you, so lost we are in this infinitude of noise. she wants to read but is unable hence resort to talking talking endlessly to a person or two about the future about you of cherry picking of dry biscuits of anything. mind mates, what a word. but you found that somewhere else, and apply it quite freely. how unoriginal how unnatural. but is there such a natural thing for you in the first place my dear? i don’t know myself.
but here we have, a permanence, a history of all things that have come to accord. is this not what you wanted in the first place? everything has fallen into its rightful place, aligned, assigned, alighted, and the only thing left to do is to commence. to begin. but what beginning? what end?
perkaraperkara 