I realize that my friend never gets lost, and though I insist that we are heading in the right direction, I inevitably turn out to be wrong. What patience my friend must have, to again and again follow me down the wrong street and not speak a word. And it sucks to know how often I have to rely on my friend’s judgment about directions, urban and intellectual, as I try, each and every day, to make my way, worrying about cul-de-sacs, blind alleys, short piers and lost roads. I'm heading for it.
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