And the present is nothing but a boundary, a paradoxical nothing between the past and the future.
So we exist in a nothing between a flawed memory, which we eventually lose, and a hope, which may not exist at all.
And like parochial fools we proclaim absolutes, proofs and facts, a reality, and a god in our image who created it.
Lobethal Cemetery, Valley of Praise, South Australia.
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