There is a great gulf fixed between thought and word. Often I have ventured to the very brink and with all manner of implements contrived to bridge the gap. Often I have gained the far side, but always I have left something behind. And sometimes I lose so much more in the crossing that I arrive on the other side feeling robbed -- stripped of the very purpose of my journey -- defeated by the dark chasm. But something always lures me back -- some deep desire to conquer that cursed crevasse, to span it with a mighty arch and march across with all my goods intact. It must be so, for I cannot trust the hope that someday I will fly.  ¶ 10:19 PM