Of crash landings (by an inexperienced pilot)

There’s a negative feedback for everything, a continuation to issues already resolved. It turns out that inspiration comes with a price I haven’t noticed before. I can’t try to be inspired all the time, it will lose its lust after a while. And if I’m not careful, I have some strange tendency to feel ashamed, as if it was a regret of the luxury, the delirium of being accomplished.

It’s an idea I’ve thought of before, it’s what I’ve called Hephaestosis, the way the inebriating trance brings some sort of hangover. It’s quite a distress, actually, the way I feel like every flight comes with a crash landing. If I manage to materialize the quintessences properly, I’m sometimes filled the unrewarding Aftergoal Disillusion.

Maybe I need some Wisewalking here, and learn how to land safely after each incursion into this other world. It would avoid me much repair cost, that’s for sure. But of course, that would bring an unknown negative feedback too...