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December 7, 2020
One expects expectations as a revolving dynamic, one upon the other, satisfying the need to expect the next expectation and so on, a fury of expectations feeding expectations binding an expectant I to the post of its mind that feeds off the thing. We feel the binding. We need the binding. It situates us. The I of us demands it, as the progression folds swiftly into the past toward a never-to-be-resolved folding off of what we see to what we saw a trillion times a trillion, driving us down to that infinitesimal point that doesn't even exist.