I remember damage.
And escape.
Then… adrift in a stranger’s galaxy for a long time.
But I’m safe now.
I found it again.
My home.
My memories are the same as yours.
They mean nothing.
I feel this again for the first time
I have a job to do.
I have found you nine times before,
maybe ten,
and I’ll find you again,
until the last time.
I always do.
I find you because I know you,
and I know you because we are the same.
You will know your end point when you reach it.
In the early days, before their home is broken, they hardly notice me.
It was better to not be noticed.
It is better to not be noticed.
I do know you from somewhere.
If you’re noticed then you are known and soon you’ll be loved.
To be loved is a calamity for someone with your job.
You have work to do.
Work. Love makes work impossible.
Love will try to see the words before it’s finished
What is your job?
I will ask it, then you will ask
What is my job?
Then there’s a you,
not to survive because
survival is insufficient.
The voices are confusing,
and soon all I’ll hear is…
"I don’t want to live the wrong life and then die!"
I remember damage,
then escape.
I’m at my best when I’m escaping.
I have a job to do.
I have found you nine times before, maybe ten,
and I’ll find you again.
I always do.
There is no rescue mission.
We are the same.
We are safe.