she said she's afraid of plateau-ing. i thought about it, and it's something equal to nothing, an endless plummet. even that becomes normal so the terror recedes to the subconscious until only dreams speak the truth, yet blindness invades consciousness and it's hard to make sense of truth, blatant or otherwise. perhaps i've grown a little cynical. i hear that ringing eighties guitar, employed by the likes of Pink Floyd and Tracy Chapman, and I want to soar. Then I think, without the falls, how can I appreciate the rise? I can't live on the level. That's the only way i'd really crash and burn.