There are many roads, and they all go around and around and around. We can look off into the distance, but we can never be out there. We can wonder at what might exist out there in the various shades of atmosphere, but we can never discover it. Even when we move forward, get closer, the particles disperse, the color goes transparent, and we are one again Nowhere Special. Better to take inventory of what is beneath our feet at the moment. Bend down so as to shove our hands into the ground and feel the collective movements of a million grains of sand.
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