there is this feeling of helplessness. like a beetle on it's back that can't maneuver it's body in any reasonable fashion. an insect so paralyzed mentally and physically by stress that the possibilities seem limiting to an extreme. I don't have time or energy to move myself from this dark apartment, or to find a new line of work, or to re-invent myself. Without the proper winding of the rubber band the plane won't have the inertia to do anything but clumsily fall to the floor and break.