#0145. Too many distinct bodies. Too much corporeal form. Too much thought as psychic adhesive. Too much light spilling from wounds. Become the light. Be the light. You are taken apart, limb by limb, cell by cell, atom by atom, and you are rearranged. Gather your many selves and compile them. You have been scattered by the winds. You have been cast across the universe in some great diaspora. Too much stardust. Too many questions.
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