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Every Passing Day : A Monologue Saturday. 5.31.08 8:54 am The day is passing. Every passing day numbers my days. Are the days numbered? I count and I keep on counting, counting the number of days passing me every now and then. What happens when the days are numbered. I do not know, I do not know. Only I know that the days are numbered. Whose days are numbered? Whose days are passing on? Is it mine? Is it me whose days are numbered? Life counts the days. And death counts the days. They keep on counting, counting the number of days. They assure me and I remain assured. I remain assured. I remain assured of my long waiting. Long waiting for the Godo? Godo never comes. He only goes, he never comes. He keeps me waiting. I remain waiting . Waiting and assured. Godo will come one day. One day he will come, sure. I remain assured and waiting. The bell tolls. I keep waiting, waiting and assured. For whom the bell tolls? It is for me. For me. 0 Comments.
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