I am of both your directions
Hanging downward the most,
Strong as a cobweb in the wind,
Existing more with the cold frost
than those beaded rays
I've seen in paintings.
Thats a poem by Marilyn Monroe (yeah she wrote poery, she wasnt a dumb blonde you know)
I love that poem. I can understand it, yet I almost can't, but I feel where shes coming from. I'm feeling her sorrow and her hurt, and I feel all my own pain. Sometimes I feel like if I had known her I could have helped her, and she could have helped me. I'm very into the paranormal so next year I'm going to try to have a seance at the Roosevelt Inn where she supposidly haunts.