What am I supposed to do? To say? How can I make this right? Every step I've taken for weeks has been thought over a thousand times before I move my leg, and yet for all those carefully planned footfalls, I'm still just standing here, with a big hole in me and weighed down now by a thousand new weights, trying to balance. But even walking won't fix this, it's a something that was broken before I got there. Now it's a matter of finding the glue. But I've got a hundred and twenty boxes of tubes of things and bits of yarn and where the fuck is the goddamn glue? I need a map to all of this, to the way your heart works, because all I want is to sit down, lay all this out, and rebuild us in the light of all the lightbulbs rattling around in another eighty-five boxes. We'd be brilliant if we could get all the wiring out of the other, other boxes and fit them into a socket. Could we just get to a space where I can lay all this down? Can we find one of the crayons in my pocket and make a map? It's cold out here, and wet and snowy, and even this physical flying across the country isn't going to take that away.