I can be an opportune moment Or a transparent and accessible form of ventilation I can also be a system that operates a device with ventilation and among other things can display and edit opportune moments

Born in the east where scholars made their mark, A silent skin for thought, from light to dark. I carry vows and wars, both truth and caper, Fold me, burn me, sign me, what am I?

What never gives you up, lets you down, runs around, makes you cry, says goodbye, tells lies, or deserts or hurts you?

My balance is fickle, I sway side to side. I’m neither a sprint nor a confident stride. A rhythm of roundness, ungainly applied.

Someone left this mallet, Oh, no... That letter was upside down. Best if we return it.