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At night, I feel as if the world is laid out before me. I could go anywhere, if only I knew how to walk. I try, and my clumsy feet obstruct one another. I fall. It's a perpetual thing. I never hit the ground. I keep falling, yet the scenery never changes. I am stuck, alienated in a world that is all my own. This world is not laid about before me. This world repeats itself, a series of film strips that I have seen, time in time again. Boredom scuttles into my brain. I lose all emotional and physical feeling. The fall goes on. I think ahead and pray for the moment when I will hit the ground; the timeless earth surely will help me. It will jar the insanity out of me, won't it? What will happen after the hit? Is it possible for me to exist after this fall? The answer comes upon me with blinding speed; I hit. I get up, the memory of my fall becomes the smoke in the morning mist. I try to walk again; I fall.