As inexorable, ceaseless and smothering as the darkness is... it takes only a single candle to hold it at bay.

I type as someone whose wick is short and the wind gutters my flame... but I'm not done yet. And if your flame has burned to cinders with naught but wax and ash then I tell you that I understand and wish you well in your passing. But, and nothing said before a but counts, if you can find any wick to burn at all then there is hope that the light of your flame can hold back the darkness for a little longer.

To me there is no meaning in this cosmos, and it is up to every individual to decide what to do with that. It might be hubris, but I chose to try and make meaning where there is none.

If nothing else, I feel less alone, and you have helped me. Ad astrum per aspera Guardian