I am enduring a new perspective. The burden of this conscious existence and all of its defective progeny is unwinding permanently for one irrational thought in me. A bent dance with clumsy fingers and legs. My mother will be holding a pen with her arms stretched out over my body for years writing in the air: 'The ineffable; an unattainable truth for a hopeful heart. A crescent frowning grimace will coat the depths of me with cotton and sweat. I no longer posses even the fleeting apparition of emptiness.'