today,
everybody is always somewhere between A or B, and the only thing that really matters is how you get there, the process that becomes the construction, and the construction that becomes what you leave behind.
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...It`s snowing, the boy said. He looked at the sky. A single gray flake sifting down.He caught it in his hand and watched it expire there like the last host of christendom. (From Corman McCarthy, THE ROAD)
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