Burped out of a white hole, an aged gaseous fart of an Elder God. Saving graces should never be saved for gracing. There are delights and madness from the void, that we might taste, only to be forgotten, lost along the way on an unemotional journey of bitter rememberance. True madness, when the Verse has her way, none will be remembered, and all will be for not. May Nyarlathotep Bless thee and may Ghatanthoa look over thee upon your journey.