It should be clear by these pages that I lead a very simple, quiet life. For what do I write about, really, other than this little place I occupy, and the steps I take daily to traverse it? And yet, this little place is part of a much bigger place, and the bigger place is part of limitless space. And limitless space — who knows that it might not be a single breath or dream of another life being lived simultaneously, or ahead, or before, or a celestial expression of grief turned to joy? That I am earthbound is clear; and as wonderful and fortunate as that is, that I also might not be, and that I might not, beyond any ordinary sense, even be here, is its own private, limitless thrill. And so it should be clear by these pages, that I do not lead a life at all, that I am the one who is led, and that stars are eyes, and minds are mirrors — else by what means are you seeing yourself in seeing me now?
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