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“Our freedom often makes us intruders at the edge of the unprecedented.” “We are existents without the true experience the future demands from us.” “Oh, those people simply did what they were required to do. Why should we worry about them?”
“Well, it’s a long way from there to here. And from here to there will be even longer and unimaginable. The clutter of objects and slow turning from bad habits to better ones. Time available. Time lost. Go to the proving grounds of imagination. Go to the few tellers of truth. Go to those who add value and richness.”
So the conversations were constant in the hut with the raccoons, bats, and owls who visited night with a kind of pride of ownership so that their speech was sharp and joyful and fully conscious.
We heard them while emptying our daily waste like an old smelter on a dying river.
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