Zero, at first, seems proper. But the further along it goes, the idea begins to teeter on the absurd. There must always be some kind of representation for a beginning, but the idea that it will return to nothingness is something that I cannot subscribe to. Everything ends up somewhere. This is one thing I have learned throughout all time. There is always a continuation of things past. It is no miracle that this occurs, but a natural flow.
Now that is has been established that there is no beginning or end, the more freely we are allowed to think. Random moments of time are caught in snippets and held onto briefly, then let go and returned to where they came. This is acceptable. There is no choice but to embrace the small moments we are allowed to witness. Even a recording such as this will never bring light to what actually happened, for that would be boring and far too exciting all at once. Comprehension would be minimal. There is only need and response.
These are the exact words of a time already passed, or the words of a time that may not have ever occurred.

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