Pontificatorily (stage 2)
Where then have all the beleaguered thoughts disappeared? They tarry into yesteryear. What state of such recompose has lingered in that going by? It’s one I swear I’ll never count again. But what then of the illusory non-matter that fills in all the strings and quarks luminating your personisphere? The dillydally you think of least is the act you most regret —that from which you most persevere. It’s a sobering thought to get along along, the thing you can’t remember if you ev
