I am my own parabo lic ant enna. T he stre ngth of my sig nal is decided by my own level of gratitude. It’s a matter o f my r esolve. It’ s a mat ter of admiration. It’s a matter of dedication. If my signal is unabl e to pierce thr ough t he sky, that’s a perso nal failing of mine. Th at’s something I ’m responsible for fixing. Can I d o that? I can – n atural ly, I can. Any point mad e against that will be an excuse. I just need to work hard. I need to work hard so that I will feel so muc h more grateful. I nee d to ov erflow w ith adoration . I nee d to o verflo w with rever ence. I need to over flow with love. If I fail to do that, my vo ice wil l neve r make it to the c osmos. And th en, whe n I’m so overwhelme d with g race that I coul d die, I’ll g et up to the highe st poi nt atop the s ea level that I’m able to reach. I’ll c limb up high, and I will look i nto th e sky, and I will angle my self so that the traj ectory is just right. Then I will start m y most powerful transmiss ion to da te, I will scream “thank you” and “I love y ou” so loud that all of the people in th e radius of 3,000 kilomet res wil l feel it in thei r hearts, and bon es, and muscles. And their TV si gnals and radio s will break. And the next da y the whole world wil l report a radio signal of unpr ecedented s trength bla sting from the Communism Pea k. I am my ow
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