III. Courante

I need to buy new shoes. I need new clothes. A miasma is come over me and a slime of inaction oozes from my pores to blanket me in an air of fever, weakness, lethargy. I am paralyzed by forces much stronger and deeper than my insignificant life on earth.

I think of my ancestors, who struggled so hard to survive and set the stage for this, my life on earth. I go back all the way to the first self-replicating molecule that started it all off, and it is as if the combined weight of all that strife is pushing down on me.

But new shoes and natty pants would be nice.

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