I sit here looking at the screen thinking to myself about the end of the day when I turn to dia's page and read and read and read and god to write. To ball up into words the cosmos and have it work and live and twirl and explode in all the chaos provided. Dia is the goddess of a hundred million universe's portently enclosed at times without, at times within, dusting lightly on a keyboard to swirl away into her eyes once again where they sparkle and collect more and more each a pearl growing larger and brighter, till they tumble. Tears from the sky to glisten and shimmer reflecting and absorbing covered by her radiance, I sit here nightly looking at the glow and pray to the goddess thanking her and then sit numb in the vastness of what she has created.
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