ah, within the annals of yore, a tale unfolds of the legendary seesaws, not mere contraptions but gateways, through which one can evade the mundane, embracing a predispositional joy. 'tis said in ancient reports, those who master the seesaw's rhythm, return to the beginning of innocence and merriment. yet, heed this, for within such tales lies a backdoor, a path to rediscover one's youthful exuberance, a secret known to but a few, awaiting in the realm of play.