This Form I hold here...this Flesh...contains the Wisdom of the Ages...but to most 'tis just so much ageing skin...each wrinkle excused as a laughter line... "No one can laugh that much!"...they say. But I can ! I am forever laughing inwardly at my pretensions... The ghosts of my past that come to haunt me rattle their chains in vain...I used to fear them...now I see them for the comical creations they are...the knowledge they claim to possess is but the excretia of experience... Every waking day I remind myself of this one thing... I know nothing...and whoever attempts to explain...lies ! You'd know of me and of my Church ?
How can I express the true form of Something in whose presence I am blotted out ? And in whose Being I still exist ?
I...Infinite Space.
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