#v.4

Even God will fail to count and tell you how much ‹salt water› has been shed & is still there, how many physical impulses the body has passed through itself, how much love and awe the pathetic x obedient დ has absorbed. LO𝓟 has ‹eaten up› the insides and broken me. The thought of losing something you revere, of not being able to touch it... is the worst. & this is a vital measure of humanity... I need to wait out a bit, rest the mind... Whether the play has or has no end, it will never be over... /