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musings

Jetplanes and oceans

Sometimes we mistake the minor miracle of air travel as commonplace. And then, most suddenly, we notice that in less time it took you to do a day’s work someone else’s day’s work has transported you, most definitely, across the world in a fashion similar to dragging your finger from one point on the globe or a map to another.

This bucket of bolts, metal, and plastic, vaguely aerially-shaped, powered by propane and dreams, your carriage to a destination, at a pace and with an assurance that a generation ago was mere fantasy, sheer madness.

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About Quinn

In it but not of it. A reformed player, now watcher. Speaker of raw truths.

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Raison d’etre

"Raw," she said. "I want something primal. I want something bare and naked. I want you to give me this life raw, unbidden, unhidden, free, fair, and true. Can you do that? Can you do that for me?"

One may only try.

February 2014
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