blather
it_is_getting_dark_in_here
perfectly_chaotic I always forget the same things over and over. The cycle of continuously renewing cycles. Sure there may be a few more books stacked upon my shelves, but upon uttering the final word upon the final page of the last volume I still find myself unable to rest.

Something was missed. Some sentence simply skimmed. Some passage overlooked. Perhaps my book is missing a page that your copy has. Not knowing where to find what I've lost I begin my search again. Yet I am unsure I will recognize the words when I see them. It is as though I speak a different dialect of the human language than that which appears upon the page.

I am growing tired. The oil in my lamp is running low and there is scant left in stock here. Yet the need for light grows minute by minute. There are those of us who simply will not sleep, and when the oil runs out we shall wander around in the dark. Stumbling. Searching. Looking blindly for something we can no longer see.

This long night must eventually end. If for no other reason than the fact that the night always ends. The sun always rises in the East.
110412
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Ouroboros I needed to read that, thank you 110413