index

Back when I had too much time on my hands I was bored and became the sit home type... a lull that grew into this mindless zombie in front of the radiation that engulfed me every night... Now, with a new sense of direction, time is so sparingly divided between the this and thats. The gaps seem so filled that they are overflowing with activities that need completion and purpose driven events. There are no more moments to spare. I am this new zombie that sleeps in the minutes between conversations. A solitude that is no more a necessity. I am the little motor that power the ship steadily through the night... and soon, I feel the gasket on my top is going to spring a leak. The sails will fall and then there will be silence... a brief sense of calmness before all hell brakes loose.

Time to slow down. Time the ease off the throttle. This is the little engine that couldn't...