The shards of a glass, yellow lantern clinked at the voice of a woman: Do you want to see your mother's spirit? The tenuous light dripped onto the delicately marked bald head of a young man who anxiously turned away to avoid any thoughts about the composition of his being. He turned away from the booth of distorting mirrors, which provoked more contemplation than the words of fifteen professors. He turned away from the circus to the suspended gravity, although he smiled as he realized that in doing so, he was missing the solution to his life.