That’s right. The floor is my friend. Countless times I have hit it on my knee’s, or crumpled upon it while walking across it. Many are the times I have had my face floor to cheek. Numerous moments where the carpet soothed my aching heart just enough to get back up.
How many journey’s have been cut short because the lure of the floor was greater than the need to go? What strange places has my face been in contact with? How common is it to throw myself down as far as I can go to feel there is an end somewhere? Does the floor count as “catching me” before real damage can be done?
I don’t know the answers. I am still just moving around floor to floor. room by room. space after space.