It was meant to be a keyhole. And who is the lucky key holder, my dear?

I feel bad for this poor fellow whose fingers were all keys. When he used the last one, he became a finite person, and that's terrible. He'd passed many doors that day and thought: "so I can't open that one or that one or that one". All the doors in the world were as closed to him as to everyone else. And that's terrible.

But one of ours keys might, just might, open Her infinite. Then it wouldn't matter that we run out of keys to use. And I'm sure She is beyond that very special keyhole, awaiting for those of us who know our fingers and whose will is not to become finite people, those who would dare to use that very last key into Her Infinite keyhole.

I'm lost in your infinite loops and I verily love you Cracky.