A strange comfort comes from having nothing old and familiar to fall into. There is nothing left but the new and now, and I think I'm finally getting used to the concept.

Remorse and regret are for the dead and for ***'** stones. I am neither and so I take my leave.

Shiva's blessings have blanketed the space between the wasteland and now and the world is white. White, blank, and left to reason. Goals and meaning seem so abstract, and I'm ready to embrace the ideals of living and dying, find meaning in life and in death.

Sipping the spiral manifestation of my intent, what comes next feels of no concern. Should it? I couldn't tell you. Perhaps it is time I find myself awake, but would it be so much to enjoy the view from my stolen throne?

I have many questions left to ask, but for now, the night.

"The number of dolls can still decrease by one."

Destroy Once Done