Sometimes it makes more sense to rebuff balance. Now, for example, I prefer to stay inside the unfolding, never-arriving spiral flight around an ever-renewing lost and found where it is brimming with tactile tongues in four dimensions.
But with no room for such admissions in standard parlance, one carries on. Nodding when the next one repeats the inevitable and expected line. Yes, balance. One of many agreements in a given day: pay no attention to the elephant, the peeking tusks, the tongues.
