Venturing deep into the bellowing insanities of my cerebral cortex, I find that my imagination has made good friends with universal infinitum. Flattered by a prompt introduction, and an offering of privacy with such a welcome acquaintance, I lean in and ask my new friend questions about my own fleeting time. Initially it apologizes for its need to destroy the walls round me, and proceeds to tell me:
"Time will never run from you, yet always, it will. You will never be remembered, nor forgotten. You are, and not. You will always be, and never again."
I respected the honesty, however my appreciation was outweighed by my concern. Beyond the destruction, I could no longer find my way out.
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