I don't know the next word. It eludes me. It hangs in front of me, unknown. I reach. I lose my footing. I am falling, reaching.
Knowing the next word my steps would be firm, one word in front of another. I would have no fear of falling.
But I can feel the next word inside me, unknown and insistent. It wants me, it wants me to let go, and for God's sake, enter the unknown. This is dangerous territory. There is no reason to go there. But this word, this unknown word, wants me to go there, do it, do it, for its own sake - it's like drinking saké with the Yakuza.
The great gothic cathedrals were built by anonymous, built upwards higher and higher until they defied gravity, face to face with the unknown.