Neither.

I am becoming you. You drank wine. I drink coffee in a less picturesque city. We both fade, forgotten. I am a language no one wanted to learn. I'm too hard, and never make sense. Too many accents. The grammar relies on feeling instead of logic. It takes time.

I say this to your generation who never heard me, and to those after and now who never will.I try hard to relate, but I cannot.I actually try at being just this much awkward and not more.

I can see why we are dead




languages.