A Separate Set of Facts

I've looked at you and weighed the pros and cons, wondered about saying the slightest thing that could be considered an insinuation. It's a fine line I'm walking, I think, and I think you're walking it with me. The ones that have come before me, they put me together and opened me up and configured that a smile means this and a laugh means that. I've turned around and told others the same, made others like me, turned others away from the truth. I worry about being Good. Everyone and their lenses and their separate set of facts. I was told the world was one thing and I'm living somewhere else, and as it continues to shift and change and build and die I will do what I can to keep up but I know it will never be enough, I know that now and I have to know it forever. So when I look at you, and I hear that smile, and I see that laugh, I can only know what it means when it comes from me, which is all any of us have. I'm in the dark but I'm finding my way out, I think. I'm making what amounts to progress. I'm making what amounts, I think, to a difference.