My inner wolf is more of a honey badger. No attachment to the cult of comfortability; no clinging desire to prolong life for longevity's sake; to live dangerously is to attain radical freedom. Learning the terms of reality, its rules holding sway, defines the terms and parameters of the available freedom. All of it is temporary, even punctual, at a point in time. There's only what there is. Non-being is not. The deletions are petulant and seem to stem from an exaggerated ego, and a need to create drama, but I don't know. I only know what it's like to be me; the reach through analogy for the experience of The Other is groundless guesswork in the end, plus: it just doesn't matter.