The author, smiling winningly Scott Raymond home


08 Feb 2004

I’ve never known myself. You’ve never known yourself. We aren’t ours, our minds aren’t in our heads. When I hold your hands, trace the lines, your ten thousand years of carbon coming together and falling apart again, instants are decades. When you look into my eyes, your child, your father, sharing a womb, there is nothing insignificant in life, everything matters. And I am tear-grateful to be here, I don’t want to leave but we all will, in an instant, in many years. We are not our own, we belong to one another, our carbon coming together, we are ours. This is the story of our lives.