the cards keep telling me to calm down, slow down, take a break, focus on the journey, but if I have only one life then it’s too little time, and if I have a thousand lives it’s still too little time, and if I live forever I’ll still never write it all and if I can’t do that, then what good am I? and I think once I made a vow that’s written now deep in my blood and marrow, coded in my DNA, the framework of all my hopes and dreams, and maybe once I was a princess priestess, maybe once I was a vestal virgin, maybe once I was the mountaintop oracle, but always and forever I was I am the scribe, the scribe, the scribe in different bodies, different times, but always at the core just the vow, just the devotion, and if I pause for even a moment that’s time spent, words lost, I know the cards speak truly but stillness feels like death and in the silence I can hear the crystalline crumbling of atoms and atmospheres, for what is the opposite of creation but entropy, ceaseless and unfeeling?

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