I feel like I’ve lost sight of myself, Mulder. It’s hard to see, let alone find, in the darkness of covert locations. I mean, I wish I could say that we were going in circles, but we’re not. We’re going in an endless line, two steps forward and three steps back. While my own life is standing still.
So I was writing a small paper in Microsoft Word and the program suddenly crashed (I saved a couple minutes before, thank god) and I get this message in the corner of my screen two seconds afterward
And when I shall die, take him and cut him up in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will fall in love with night and pay no worship to the garish sun.
