I don’t know seems like now I go about thinkin’ you know what I know.  Like the words though useless somehow fill it fill time and space so that I can talk and you can talk about what we already know we just don’t say it and then the words hit and you see it in your mind the feelings forming around it and out of the past the words just said an image rises a setting a backdrop where you see the words play out softer and softer til you can’t even hear them no more but you see what the words are sayin’ and you feel them as if another has taken your place on stage to tell the story your story our story the confluence castigated til it’s neither me or you him or her us and them but like one big room with all our voices and what carried them there waiting to speak listening to be heard the words which were always tripping over themselves muted in the motivations seen in the faces the eyes the setting in way determining the outcome for in this room there is no exit there is no way out and the words—well, the words have nowhere to go.  That’s how I feel when I come here when I look at these old photographs and see these walls that have stood for damn near a hundred years.  I can’t tell their story without telling my own.  And what you leave here with is just your story added to theirs—I know that now…

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