It is a strange thing to age in a relatively contained city: one repeatedly ends up in places where one once was, eons ago, as someone completely different. And pity would not only be misplaced, but seriously mistimed. Still, looking back I can't see any other way for myself but that wasteful way. And I did emerge after all, did I not, through (of all things) reason and logic. Even if the price was almost impossibly high in full retrospect, in wasted streets, wasted people.
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