A constant desire to catch something so close to you, attached by a string no longer than your arm can reach. I’ve seen people fixated, for minutes, bordering on on half an hour at a time, trying carefully to catch a ball in a cup, for no other reason than one’s on desire, to slot said ball onto a spire. A game all can play, rhythmically throwing and catching; frustrations in alternations between cupping and balling.
A Japanese skill toy for children, baiting those with boredom and enticing poorly coordinated enervating masochists. Part with ones ego, you part with the game. But ultimately the desire to succeed metastasises, and the game of life becomes diaphanous. A pointless spire at the end of a handle, best intended for children.
