Building on what he figured was the way forward, he stood and stagnated. That was the infernal conundrum, as he called it. Tired of the sing along rigmarole sing song, he wondered when he’d spin out of this orbit, charting his own course. Break through the invisible force shield that seemed to have him in its grasp; that inability to make others believe what he believed. What appeared make-believe. Which he made belief in the belief that his belief was sustenance. Damn it.
No matter then. The spinning orbit was a blur of darkness spinning around the bright centre point of light. He gravitated, mesmerized. It was the nautch girl of his dreams. An intellectual masturbation of gripping proportion. He needed to seize the light for himself. Hold it in his grasp and snuff it out at will. This was a dark orgy he played out in his mind; the stimuli he craved, but wanted to control. To say no - that was the difficult part. To say no. No?