To be a critic I went to hell with you (universal reach). 
You gave me hiccups back then, up to floor six. Now my senses are restored. An unoccupied mind long overdue.  

And I’m back in my vertigo seat, reading over and writing disciplined boilerplate, fond of mnemonics. Why worry over explanations?  
 
To explain is to run up against narrative: actually a proxy measurement, one affected by all other expressions of interest over time.