Perhaps, I give up--finally--on an idea, a concept with inevitable results totaling zero. A squirrel once told me I was insane for holding on to any bit of the idea, finding any comfort in past versus future dictation, developments and the rest. "It's only going to lead you down a dirt sidewalk," he said with a smile reserved for philosophical contemplation. "You'd be better off reading Dune while playing chess with a broken clock and neck. Tick tock." He said, "Tick tock."
So, I ignored his advice. He was, indeed, a squirrel after all. I held on. And when I fell face first into thorns, I simply squeezed tighter. Prayed.
Then I took off my glasses, like I was asked--and needed to be asked--and walked into a brick wall with a Magic Eye placed firmly in the center, a picture of a door buried in the red and black tones.
I saw the door; thus, it existed.
I felt the wall; thus, I didn't want it to exist. Perhaps, if I only I had a mirror...
Perhaps, I give up--finally--on an idea, a concept with inevitable results totaling zero, a concept on which I should have given up A) from the start B) from the squirrel C) from the wall D) from the false door E) none of the previous.
Perhaps, I give up--finally--on an idea that has been the most important and life changing "thing" that has ever happened to a biped people on this blue spec. Regardless, I, like you, am simply allowed.