Wednesday, December 4, 2019

Two Hundred and Five

Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita 
mi ritrovai per una selva oscura,
ché la diritta via era smarrita.

If we tell ourselves we’re on a journey, and have lost our way, we’ll never find it.  Because we are not on a journey.  We keep returning to the same places, but never stay long because they’re not our journey's end, our home.  We no longer have a home as other animals do.  We’re wanderers, and will remain so unless and until we find a new way to live with each other.

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