Provable detours illustrate parallels once the destination seems to be within reach. What cuts clear does not appear until such an influx reveals oneself and its motives. Its virtue. It's reasoning. How one chooses to proceed very much depends on how one views the journey... figurately and literally. Mars was manner, Venus wasn't the answer... yet each volume of solace glides through it's own orchestra of moments. Beat by beat. Chapters thereafter of eight... be it lyrics, poems, or personal turmoil... continue an otherwise accomplishment of idealistic objectives. No limits.