The End Is In The Beginning And

Nothing Happens. Nobody Comes, Nobody Goes. It's Awful.

In Reality We Are One And All From The Unthinkable First To The No Less Unthinkable Last Glued Together In A Vast Imbrication Of Flesh Without Breach Or Fissure

Enough To Know No Knowing.

Deplorable Mania, When Something Happens, To Inquire What.

The Blind Have No Notion Of Time. The Things Of Time Are Hidden From Them Too.