After being fucked beyond hell on my deathday, I decide to cultivate my qi. To keep one's guard down all the time is a childish fantasy. Life is movement. Yes, the world makes everyone crazy. And for reasons we aren't able to comprehend and I reckon aren't supposed to. Grace comes in when it can't possibly be worse to inhabit than one's own imagination. Every moth is the God-Moth. Is the snake wrong for being what it is?