Blank stares bring me beyond where I should have gone.
When I explore hidden coasts from my living room chair I can still hear your voice. I don't just tolerate your diction, I revel in it.
In our advanced theories we were forward looking.
We said we'd work more, earn more, live more, have more fun. But we didn't - We did some of those things but not all because everyone always has to make sacrifices.
I chose to stare directly at space.
You went to work while I went to the moon. I curled up in a crater and power napped. When I woke up I no longer tolerated anyone's words but my own. Instead I listened intently to my professor, the newscaster, my friendly waitress, my flight attendant (who also happens to be my yoga instructor). I am patient in my attempts to translate the words of experience and knowledge of Other into
my own loose language, all the while making sure it makes perfect nonsense.
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