  Hmm. Right now I'm struggling to wring out every ounce of ~meaning~ from that singular line. If at all there is one. If I haven't deluded myself. Desperate to make sense of everything that is-- and isn't-- ~happening~ in my life. My porcelain sky is caving in on me, and there's nothing I can do about it. We try our best Which is never enough And is never an excuse. I close my eyes and listen... (..listens..) ...as the pieces shatter. Dare I open my eyes anew? Everything is starting to sink in. My limbs are now numb. **sigh** Never regret. Ne jamais regretter. Malgré que nous sommes prêsque vaincus. 
