I should be telling you about the shifting patterns of smoke, and your potential for self-transformation. I should be pulling you aside for epiphanies, ripping the scales from your eyes every 1/24th of a second. I should be seeing so much that the sun rises and sets in our bones, and we encompass time. I should be a visionary. But I’m not. And we’re exactly the same people we were yesterday, whatever we want to say or do about it.