Yeah, about that.
I saw a man walking on the sidewalk this morning. He had that wraparound to-cover-the-baldness thing. You know what I'm talking about. And he, believe me, had taken it to a whole new place. A place that was definitely beyond all reasonable authenticity. It was LONG and the head under it was BALD. And that hair wrapped way around. And it was plastered to his head with some kind of product. He looked happy with it though. And really, isn't that what matters? Who ever said the inside was supposed to align with the outside and not the other way around? And why did you ever start to believe that?
But when you start to mess around with this stuff, when you question the pragmatics and the bright light with no shadow and the four corners of something that you finally realize is inherently round, what are you left with?
It would seem you are left with only one option. Temporary stillness and an attempt at quiet integrity.
Because, really, how could you possibly hope to direct the flow of what breaks the dam?