You’re a frustrated man. Some thoughts are for keeps, and in the bulk of discarded and mistreated developments he found two distinct items.

One, my sense of estrangement. Some vindictive instinct that for a very long time you pushed and later pushed away. Now it lives and breathes in him. Its surface still remains but I am convinced it’s elsewhere.

Two, you have the sharp resolve of all impulses still singular in life. There is some memory of lust, purity of the category and formative, and also a trailing resolve for companionship. My issue is the lust, but its reserve for energy is powerful, and for years now I have battled with the definition I have given myself. Your balance walks somewhere along those lines and needs both for composure.

When at last we dip, the world bends and huddles around, and for the others’ preoccupation this is a scene of learning and a scene of public torment – vocational. But our lesson is much more valuable than theirs. We will walk taller, although our gait has been broken.