How did so much become naught, I wonder.

Photos are cruel jolts, I think. Haha.

Strangeness.

Tired.

A little sad.

Various things, actually.

All of the above, and more, I think.

More than 3.5, if it weren't for all my foolish naiveté.

Yet.

Let me not want the world.

What are numbers worth, anyway?

Everything, it seems, insofar as you are trading with the world.

Let it go, let it go.

For nothing you have, was yours, to begin with, anyway.

[Head knowledge]

[[How does one reconcile living with that?]]