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Trust this.

Humans have good reasons for just about everything they decide, decided, will soon decide and the do-don’t do-or decide just to wait a little longer all very re-reasoned reasonably well.

And when I observe and write the phrase “just about everything,” I actually mean “everything” in our human sense. “Everything” as an abstract—as a theoretical concept—in its purists (oops, purest) form, everything is impossible to contain.

The infinite always expands.

This confuses the finite brain, which secretly hopes, at some point in space-time to be able to explain… well…
Everything.

The Highest of all numbers…
plus one.

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    Disclaimer: Poetic license is at work both here and in my books. Any errors or anomalies are through no fault of my editor. These were left deliberately at my expressed intention to clearly indicate that goodness does not require perfection.

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