Never sure.

.

.

Someone was... is... saying something.

What it ever absolutely means?  God, only, probably knows.  For even the thinker, often, of mortal means, knows little.  Thinks he does, doesn't.

What am I on about.  A... pattern of videos.  These.

Don't I know it.

First one, then the other?  Neither quite what they seem.

Both yet blind travelers.  Until... the veil was transcended?

My thoughts?  I... do... understand?  If I deny, some.

To win isn't... always... a win.  So I just am.  If the author knew this too.

And, yes.  To come from the grave to grace?  Is as much as I hoped.

I didn't hope, at once.  Only in finality, which... doesn't seem an end, or dreadful?  Still clumsy at it all, but aware, awake, even if mostly dead.  And... there is still tomorrow.  First by the word of Another, now by the humble submission of as honest of a fool as possible.  Still, caution is served.  Old, ill, mostly dead, if still more lethal than almost anything you have ever considered misjudging.  Gravity sometimes spares.  As does fate, and incident.  If you choose me, it is final.

Or... so I suggest.  Only one way to find out.  Later.