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7 November 2025 – Baldur Bjarnason

I had an opinion. A neat and tidy one; drafted to convey concern; an argument for worry, “this thing is bad!” with a fist shaking against the sky, all ready to publish.

I laid down an argument, feeding anxiety and nourishing my own fear. “I’m usually not this eloquent,” thinking to myself, “this is coming together.”

But, looking at that “together” after the fact, it wasn’t a picture I enjoyed. Like a photo that you know is well-constructed and composed, but all it does is deliver wrong emotions and the wrong time. There is a limit to craft and it has to do with the human element: me.

What do I feel? How do I want you to feel? What do I believe? What do I want to believe?

I sat down and really let my own argument sink in. It was convincin…

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