Unto our lives.....
I had took a little time, to "find myself", Lost Time, as it were, even as the moon went a centimeter out, I screwed my head on straight, and in rows and rows of empty boxes, I found my own quiddity, that thing that makes me, me, that bit of something, innate, "maybe she's just born with it", and then I was there again.
Was I in Thomas Payne's Common Sense? The Analects? The Nicomachean Ethics? The Enchidrion? Or even Don Quixote? The pages of EC Comics or Mad Magazine? High Times?
Indeed, wherever I am, there I find myself, almost a super power, to look up and intone "Here and Now, the hour peculiar to the present, I make my stand." I need no pity party, but simply to cinch up my belt and proceed.
"It's easy if you try; I'll show you how."
"Think of me as a baby bird. Peep! Peep! I'll be the Alcibiades to your Socrates."
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