With All and Nothing

It’s hard to say how many books one who reads, reads in one life.  We’re unsure of our days, when they’ll keep coming or when they will come to a close.  I can only imagine.  Both books and my days to come.
I wish I could say that all that I have found has set my mind at ease, but all I have found and all I have read has only made me wonder and consider more.  More and more.  I’ve found myself approaching places I’ve only dreamt to be real.
All until now I had imagined I was a body and an entity in and of itself.  I was.
Gradually, I’ve become less.

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