Looking at the spike that I picked up today I can imagine it new, a dull sandy sheen on its surface and all of its grooves, points and edges freshly forged. In front of me it is rusty, dirty, pocked and blistered because its job is so hard that even though it has to stay still and wait most of the time, when it finally has to perform the stress is
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I love you and your sideburns madly, and I know that whatever you ending up doing in life, you will do it well.
Hopefully it's not killing people.
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I wish you well in this endeavor.
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