The grip slackens; a sense of vertigo, you lose your balance. Always more blood flowing, always more tears shed, always more stars and clouds in the sky: always this same rhythm, a quiet tempo, a melody singing itself; this song sung, this impossible silence, this quiet breeze...
“He who falls away from himself has not abandoned himself. He has simply freed himself. He has lost out, he suffers it, but at the same time through this loss he has brought about less damage to the other than through self-forgetting virtue.” — C.G. Jung