It’s said that the struggle to describe a line is an ancient one. It’s said that for a line to describe the path of an object (x) as it traces the orbit of the central psychosomatic solid (y) in the throes of this struggle is an anxious undertaking; and having said that, I would like to reiterate a number of my linear anxieties that may (or may not, we have received no proof, nor given the same) have become detached from their given orbits (or objects (with no objections? then I will proceed, obviously)).
The anxiety of orbit is twofold.
The first fold is, of course, as we are all taught from an early age (many assume this age to be Pleistocene, but I have my suspicions (as should you, I suspect)), lengthwise. A mere distraction from the issues at hand, I’d say. And my hand (as you well know!) has no length, but only width, and I’ve been caught in more than my fair share of cookie jars as evidence. I fold my hand and another appears; so too an orbit folds where no others appear (and all is lost (the loss is permanent but molecular, as the orbital hallway narrows with every crease)). We’ve all been scolded for crying over spills/splits/spites, so there’s no need to unfold old wounds again, but consider this - the consolidation of any object will always spill a line or two in the process (and my process is considerable (though my cleanliness leaves much to be desired)).
To reinstate the fold, regardless of vector, regardless of velocity, is to reveal the second. But firstly, a digression: my second hand redaction defines only default lines. Any ruptures above and beyond the grid are no concern of mine. A corollary to an otherwise ribald series of folds; and what are folds but faults in a pristine plane? Plainly and precisely - an anxious ripple, lengthwise again: you’d recognize my handiwork anywhere, and don’t you dare suggest the contrary.