I elbow him in the jaw and knee him in the stomach, tossing Faith my phone in between movements, "Call my brother. If freaking fire won't do it, light sure as hell better."
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
I jump out of the car and bolt into the building, finding someone dragging Faith away from a burnt-looking door. Swearing, I send a gust of light energy towards the two and bend it around Faith.
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
That's just what translation is, I think. That's all speaking is. Listening to the other and trying to see past your own biases to glimpse what they're trying to say. Showing yourself to the world, and hoping someone else understands. — Ramy (Babel by R. F. Kuang)