I can move the mountain with my confidence and get crushed under its weight with my doubt. I am a superman with an inferiority complex. My alter-egos exist as shield and sword. I wield them like peacock feathers and hide behind them like a ghost.

In a breathless moment the whirlpool catches hold and reshapes me so that I no longer recognise what other people find so familiar. Amongst these children I am aged in both directions. I progress. I regress.