When the playing stops.
Suddenly there are no longer suggestions, but attempted answers. Often wrong. Mainly wrong.
Question: How can you keep asking when knowing the answers will be often wrong, mostly wrong?
It is a leap of faith, into the air, from the window on the 11th floor, from the golden gate bridge/Sad Tally (East side), From the table (37/38mil, 4 legs (one, two, three, four), solid. Every time!)
You land, pick up your limbs and bits of internal organs you didn’t know existed just to jump again. Sometimes you cry. Not out of pain, but out of sheer frustration.
One day — a fragment, half spoken word, mishearing, consumption of three bottles of wine and some cannabis, exhausting hours of systematic searching or an accident—- you don’t land, but punctuate the first layers of the ground through the “invisible underground proliferation of conduits (electricity, gas, telephone lines, water mains)” Maybe through the limestone and the marl, but not yet to the Beuchamp sands.
Lets hope that tomorrow is One day, but until then, we’ll keep jumping
Present Attempt 