When was the last time you felt absolute joy?
Many a times an answer to such a question is a pause, a reflection, a debate between a couple of things, then a few more others, then the feeling that since the choices are debatable, that one peculiar, superb moment of joy is far too back for us to recall.
We begin to go farther back in time, farther back, way too far for us to know where we started and whic location we have gotten ourselves into...
Lost in a pool of footsteps, the realization strikes us: Did it ever...?
And that doubt in itself is the very game of the creature: joy.
It is a fully sufficient creature. It arrives, entertains, plays us right up to the point of climax. That single, unique, vague moment, and leaves. When it leaves, it erases the entire folio, the leads and tracks. This is how generations of joy creatures have managed to become tyrants. This is how they have convinced humanity of their uniquness. Of their oneness. This is how they have caused much nostalgia for thousand of years, and millions of art work, stories, poetry, paintings, etc.
When joy leaves, it has to make sure that it deletes itself totally from the memory of a human. The memory of its ever having have existed in their lives. It simply sets the stage for the next visitor. For the next possible arrival of joy. The joy that seems like it never happened before, and never will...
Just like a female, stepping into the land of poetry!