I beg for a glimpse of happiness. Not for the balance, stability it may bring to my life. No, never. Merely for the bragging privileges. Maybe, that is why I cannot hold on to anything. Maybe not. I have lost my grip on what matters. What is real and why? Who is real, and who are you? I'm your slippy double, and yours, and yours, and yours and mine. Lightening strikes, don't know where. Yield to the mind's invasion of bodily space. Get up. Get up. Get up. Get up. And wash your face. Stay in place.