I did not keep any of my earlier stuffed pets when I entered teenage. I was a boy and I was suggested to give them to my younger sister, and I did it with mixed feelings, but mostly with joy, since she loved them even more than me. Now, some thirty years later, many among my sister’s pets have returned to my home (and some, even to my bed), including the few ones that were mine one distant day… being them smaller and much more battered, I preferred to portrait me with some of the bigger and more handsome ones my sister used to sleep with.
It all makes sense in this awesome and beautiful (but deadly) world:
[About these three improper integrals, I’ve felt always fascinated by the beautiful peculiarity of their values, and moreover, they have a relationship with the image (but I would need a whole new post to try to explain it 🙂 ) — another fact about the trascendental quotient π/e is that it is EQUAL, to the seventh decimal, to the quotient of my age and Ari’s age when she passed away (!!!)]
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