The sensation teases me. When I expect too much of it, forget myself in the endless pursuit of what is yet to come, it twists and turns in response. This nature, as changeable as a mountain stream, though it may seem unexpected, lies not only in mere uncertainty but also in mischievous and puckish quality to its demeanour. When I peek at it in the distorting mirror it lurks about me and is relatively quick to give unsolicited lessons and advice.

I have yet decided what to do with it, on the one hand wishing for it to become a familiar of mine, on the other fearing the aftermath of its manipulative mind games.