A sense of mission lostin ink’sjagged outcrops.I was trying to tell myselfwhat I must have knownbeforein a formI wouldn’t recognize at first.

The fearthat all thiswill end.The fearthat it won’t.

We are all full of discourses that we only half understand and half mean.

SimpleComplex systems can arisefrom simple rules.It’s notthat we want to survive,it’s that we’ve been druggedand made to actas if we dowhile all the whilethe sea breaksand rolls, painlessly, under.If we’re not copying it,we’re lonely.Is this...