Information changes things, that's just a fact of life, whether you're a snail or a king. One way or another, the change made will spin itself into something else, and in accord with the laws of evolution, that something will either fly or fall.
For as Gaia has suffered embezzlement and theft, your windows have looked down on this series of events, one way or another. You knew. So I can think back to when eyes were locked and I questioned silently, "Is this the truth?"
"Yes," you replied, and could in fairness hardly have conveyed anything else, having already committed to the mechanics in place for what it is we have to live with and What Is now firmly plastered to the wall.
We either take the high road or the low. We all avoid places we fear may never be touched by our hand or mind again. We all deserve peace and in our ways are all driven to seek it; perhaps the games are over and a new stadium waits to be built.
You can be afraid to fly, or too afraid to fall, or you can trust in the love you've always had and see where it takes you. I did that, and here I am, at a junction with destiny weighing up a lot of things said. No worries, I'm not afraid to die. One way or another, dead or alive, there are no secrets left to matter, and I'm not afraid of matter. Not now that I realise the quantum world is a foundation we are given to rely on, and once caught in its waveform there's no escaping the current of its tide.
Russian roulette is not really my bag, but the jury's in, the chips are down and there is nowhere left to run.
This one's for the one without whom Quantumology would never have come about.