LAST WEEKEND'S PILOT SKETCHBOOK

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I've decided on a metaphor: my life is like a asymptote. A narrow miss. For the longest time, I thought an asymptote was one of those things that grew on the underside of ships, until I found out that's called a binnacle, which I had previously thought was a monocle with a split lens, for reading.

No, I really didn't think any of those things. I like to pretend I'm out of it, or more accurately, I like to pretend that I'm pretending I'm out of it, so that people are fooled into thinking I'm pretending. But lately it's become more confusing, and I'm not sure when I'm kidding. That troubles me. No it doesn't.