There is no Santa Claus.
Desine fata deum flecti sperare precando.
That was your mother, Oedipus.
rm is forever.
Yesterday's terrible realization was that some things will happen _for the last time_. Every action taken might be the last of its kind. Though nothing lasts forever, the absence of something certainly can. Never mind merely the consequence that with the tiny span of time between my ears, there is so much I am obliged to miss. But there are some things the world will never see happen again.
I am not sure whether to take this realization with despair, resolve, salt, or befuddlement. Perhaps all, in time, if I can manage it.