Psychological space exists just as physical space does. It has properties, qualities, and characteristics in exactly the same way. One space is covered in cracks, soaked in the stench of foul odours, and coloured in dark depressing hues. Another may be quite the opposite, with polished walls, sweet scents, and bright beautiful tones of light. Men are always traveling in psychological space, though they are often unaware that the scenery they find themselves in is optional and can be changed by exiting through the same door as they entered. In this respect, men are psychological drunkards. A sober frame of mind would perceive all of this as bare reality, but men are endlessly distracted by every random event, outwardly drawn like puppets bound by tethered strings that dull their senses. They have no innate power at their disposal that can stand against the momentum of habitual insensibility to the ever changing moods that tempt their fates down an unpredictable meandering course. Yet men are still predictable in their state of unpredictability, for of all the scenery available to them, they are rather fond and attached to a limited variety. In the same way as one lives in a particular house at any given point in time and decorates it in a personalized style, or of all the locations around the earth, a man may choose to only travel to and visit a very few.