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This feels just like outer space and it's just right. You're awake and you're asleep at the same time. You're on your back in blinding light. You're not the only one who gave up on her dreams in spite of nothing there to stop you. I know your wings are made of wax, but they'll still fly. Never mind your wicked ways hidden inside. When we left home, we thought the best that we could hope for was a map of what got left out of all the places we discovered. It's a blessing to be here. It's your birthright. Still, you're bleeding all the same, yeah, you're bled white. Another dawn, another day we spend avoiding the dusty sealed-off rooms of a hundred thousand empty houses. They'll say what they'll say when we're gone. And they'll say what they'll say when we're gone.


from A Pattern Language, released July 19, 2011



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