Indecision, ambivalence—time is running out! If I continue to be ruled by these twins, these siamese twins, these chariot drivers, these conjoined beasts, I will never, well, I will never, I think I will never unstick myself from this place I am stuck to, it feels as though I have been stuck to this place forever! Every nonaction, every tangled, entagling question—should I or should I not; what should I do; where should I go—these are the threads that bind me, the ropes that trip me up, they are the pins that stick me and the glue that adheres. I say chariot drivers, but they do not take up the reins, they will not move me forward! They are steeped too darkly in themselves, sunk too deeply in themselves, afixed too firmly to themselves to be anything but indecision and ambivalence. How is it that I began to pray to the gods that sent me indecision and ambivalence as their answer to my benighted prayers of unbelonging? Ah, but I do know how, for how could I have wished to belong when belonging was someone else's appetite that devoured me, when it was so destructive, when it gleamed and sparkled and pulled me to it only to tear me apart? Of course I learned to be light on my feet, to be weightless and far ranging! No wonder I came to feel that the greatest safety was in boxes packed and ready to go! Of course I was a runner! And of course, of course, the gods gave me restlessness, gave me indecision and ambivalence!