Some six years, as of today, have settled their way gossamer-soft into the history that is my life here in paradise -- an unremarkable number, imbued with no special consequence by way of the enumerations we usually deem significant. And yet, this sixth astonishes me more than the fifth, and I think shall outshine any tenth or twentieth that might await within the distant compartments of yet-unlived years.
It is the sixth since I thought I gained Elysium, the first since I actually did so, and fifteenth since I erred in a way that precipitated my current state of soul-sure ascendance.
I don't care to explain all of that tonight. It's enough to mark the occasion, and those most able to appreciate these words also surpass the entire world's remainder in their ability to understand them.
So I close this night with word to my loves of the infinite cascade that is my affection for and gratitude toward them. For these six short years have I been upon this path, this empyrean journey through an emerald-pure and diamond-bright world of truths that ever turn to me new facets and shiver me through with their light.
Each year with you dear, sheerest wonders has contained an infinity, it seemed, only to surrender to the next and the next and the next the quality of expanse beyond any conception of further improvement, until the habit comes upon me of awaiting nirvana's superior successor.
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