Sometimes I look around and get the distinct feeling that we are all sleepwalking past each other.

Humans have so much magic within them. The earth is full of mythical beasts — they are us, but unknown to us.

Each mind is absurd and godly. Dithering, leaping, fabricating, a lively and irregular patchwork. The mind slips from one idea to another, every one on its own unique, idiosyncratic path.

If I look around, the most magical and beautiful thing in the world is hidden from sight. Our thoughts are too damn far from each other. Like this, a lifetime of flailing and signing at each other through a window.

I care about BCI because it can surface the mind, and with it an outpouring of creativity and lyricism. This future is so curious, so incisively at the center of what it means to be human, that it would be heartbreaking to look away.