We are walking statues among walking statues. Sometimes we must squint at those familiar friends in the distance, sometimes we feel the eyelashes of a new acquaintance upon us.
How do we walk among ourselves? Are we open to those we see? Do we move closer, or shy away? Or are we pulled and pushed by a current that only vaguely resembles reason? Perhaps it wears a deceptive dye. Perhaps we are actually dancing on our own two feet, flying with our own wings.
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