Each object comes with a number, mathematical or not, algorithm always, a recipient to all the point of views which make up the said object; a kind of Pandora's Box to whomever derives a pseudo reality from a feodal, idem feudal positioning;

Numbers however the same never never travel through sameness corridors, for they all are tunnels forever foraging throughout space's infinity, think the 'night's starry sky' if only for an order of magnitude and then, plunge into the sand grains of the sunny beach, to meet the same function;

A number might fulfill one's own humanitarian vision, stop further foraging, begin self compliance to the thin surface upon which the number floats, never for the onlooker to think about what might be behind this numbing number;

For that number is but a keyhole, a portal awaiting movement, the winds of time to gently swish through it and then become welcomed into chaos infinite quantum reality;

Reality is always infinite.