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¨:~;§&#¶## WHEN I WAS IN EIGHT GRADE I DECIDED I ##¶#&§;~:¨
¨¨¨¨¨:~§## WAS DEAD. MY SPIRIT HAD LEFT MY BODY, ##§~:¨¨¨¨¨
¨:~;§&#¶## NEVER TO RETURN. ##¶#&§;~:¨
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¨:~;§&#¶## I REMEMBER SITTING IN MY PARENTS CAR ON ##¶#&§;~:¨
¨¨¨¨:;&##¶ A CLOUDY, WATERY DAY, GETTING A RIDE ¶##&;:¨¨¨¨
¨:~;§&&&¶# SOMEWHERE. IT FELT LIKE I HAD SOLVED #¶&&&§;~:¨
¨:~;§&#¶## SOME GREAT PUZZLE. I'VE SOLVED NO ##¶#&§;~:¨
¨:~;§&#¶## PUZZLES SINCE THEN. ##¶#&§;~:¨
¨:~;§&#¶## ##¶#&§;~:¨
¨:~;§&#¶## INSTEAD, I'VE BEEN MINDLESSLY PILOTING ##¶#&§;~:¨
¨:~;§§§&&# THIS BODY AROUND. I STILL GIVE IT LIFE, #&&§§§;~:¨
¨¨:::~§&¶# SOMEHOW. LIKE A GOLEM, AND I TRY NOT TO #¶&§~:::¨¨
¨¨¨¨:;§§## CARE TOO MUCH, BUT I DO. IT'S A ##§§;:¨¨¨¨
¨:~;§&#¶## CONTAMINATED GOLEM, THIS ONE. PURITY ##¶#&§;~:¨
¨:~;§&#¶## CLOUDED BY MY ECHO. AFTERGLOW OF MY ##¶#&§;~:¨
¨:~;§&#¶¶¶ SPIRIT. ¶¶¶#&§;~:¨
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