alone: echolocation experiment

So I am in a place I am hoping is not an echo chamber.  The transparent sphere that Dali at one point sat inside painting shapes is a bit brighter of a place, but I hope that this place is not akin to that sphere either.  I fear that in these times it is hard to find the true measure of the world outside, that measure, proportion, balance are lost as we are in the grip of forces incommensurate with us and our surroundings.  The anonymous inner voice, and the anonymous external force echoing each other make pretense of strength, or ability to measure anything by an ever more fragile bodily frame laughable.  The spindles and the ropes of this marionette show one can feel, but whose is the hidden hand that sets the spectacle into motion?

Drama of a god that breathed life into the golem that he shaped, or conversely of the golem that had to invent a god to stand up on his feet and give himself life.