Whatever you intend or set out to do you must first satisfy the question "Who are you to think you can ...?" You have a long history that says you are an unlikely candidate for the honour: innocence lost long ago, a thoroughly inconvenient memory, an unruly bunch of sub-personalities for whom you retain great affection and considerable trust. Wherever you go, they too must come along, although they'll never leave any place as they found it. As elements in a plurality none seeks identity, they are happily functional, a band of distinct functions offering no resistance to changes, in need of no corroboration. On the other side, there are tight cycles between thought and feeling and will that represent the personal self, they do not stabilise the illusion, they are the illusion. Touch it and it reacts, don't touch it and it reacts. You'd almost think it was alive, with its all-weather appositeness, its magnificent response-ability - but don't be fooled, it's beyond perfect, the rules are bent to it, defense is offence, every mirror is also a sword and every sword a mirror.