Every class tries to come up with solutions. The tutors shake their heads and point out that the solutions are the same ones the previous class thought up and the class before that, and the class before that. A partner to watch over you and wake you if you start to project, except the partner is usually the second to fall into the projection. Drugs to knock you out and give dreamless sleep; but really it is just that you don’t remember the dreams even if you do wake up again. Every class remembers the names of students who tried their ideas and are – at best – dead now.
Maybe you just have to find something, anything, that you can hold on to. That lets you hang on to the illusion. Maybe you just really need to want to hang on. It’s the fate of the Touched to just give up and fade away into reality if we don’t die violently; maybe those students who don’t make it were weak, were never going to make it anyway.
I hope so, because so far, after these past few years gone renegade I’m still here; despite having lost the beat. I’ve still got something to do and I’m not leaving till it’s done.

