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Life’s a zero-sum game

I’m picturing a tent pitched securely into the ground on a mildly windy day…

You can blow and pump and flutter all you want, get as much air under that thin skin between the earth and the sky, make it appear as big and important as you may want, but eventually you’ll run out of breath.

And just like that, just like your tent, each one of our tents will slowly fall to the earth, shriveled, tired, some torn, others less so.

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