Without, just without

Wound, not like a spring, no, the rubber band has stretched its way into a groove, cutting of the vitality it has through the impertinent use of that vitality: its elasticity.  Wound tight, without movement or, perhaps, without potential.

There is an awkward imbalance, I think it would be so simple for the rule to be laid down: this is what we do, this is who we are; but I guess it is not quite that simple, and I am not in the position to say what can or cannot be done. It is just a little dull being seen as such a monster.

Fat and dull
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