Synapse Writer-In-Residence #NPM16
We have a long drive.
The brain’s only a tetrabyte of road.
Take care, for instance. You have all of this time, and eyes, and curve, and
strange, but only she gardens and grows me. Moving too fast leaves holes you will later war in-
They pulled Tay the minute she was getting us.
Imagine what the same barrage would do to you, then realize you’re already it-
I am trying to find my beliefs right in front of you, but the world
that we’re in charge of moving moves so fast, somehow displeases us as we plan it,
so then I must be
forgiven stolen from ‘Programmer of the World’; you wouldn’t shine without a mine.