I find these days that I have lost everything. There is no need for a fact to be ferretted out of my mind. I merely refer to a pixelated friend who provides me with ample information. I would love to be at peace with this. I yearn to turn pages in search of an elusive passage. To feel actual paper on my fingers. But all I have is the mundane, detached, tap, tap, tap, of the question and the answers reveal themselves instantly in a million plus results. I wonder what the answer to the final question will be?