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The Inner and Outer Cynic

I sit with the cynic. He finds unstateable flaw with my ideas. He sulks, scoffs, or laughs with smugness. This is not critique before me, sharpening my own thought and outlook. Clever or otherwise, this is a defeated man, failed in many ways, with nothing to now contribute, a scornful resignation, a life without a plan. This is the cynic with whom I sit but must depart.

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