What are we, in our grand cosmos, if not tantalized: by the mirth of unbowed intellect or the hopes we cannot live. We are tantalized by the littlest fruit, its sweet promise untasted, untouched, unbegotten. Though meager, it is everything. A fruit of shed anxieties, bottomless riches, and perchance even booty. Yes, booty does tantalize. It tantalizes so thoroughly, in fact, that the careful stitches of our sanity ardently unwind to chase after even the most sad of asses. Why? Curiosity. Beauty. Human nature. By our inherent thirst for discovery, thirst for more, do we deprive our minds of vitality to quench our craven inquisition. And where does it all lead? To gains and amicability? Nay. We are tantalized and we are fools. To ass, to mill, and of course, to shame.

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