Infinite means it is impossible to calculate or measure, that it is limitless, endless, in extent, and in size, read the street signs, in The city of infinite sadness, in which forms finds subject matter.
Like you, I wrestle with my sadness, which on the one hand feels like it is not my own, and on the other hand feels personal.
Ask me the correct question, and I will let you out of The city of infinite sadness.
Is it a question of timing, i.e., the ability to select the precise moment to do something for optimum effect, or timing, i.e., the placement of it in time is something that I cannot control, but can only anticipate?
You may temporarily leave The city of infinite sadness.
But you didn’t answer my-
Excuse me?
Nothing, my apologies. Thank you for letting me out, for now.
You can’t stay, forever, but you can’t not stay here, at all.
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