| And it's raining ideas. Lots of them and they're wet and transparent... beautiful yet fragile like anything that's still in the Idea realm. Anything that's not pragmatic yet. Pragmatic dries them up a little. Makes them heavy with the weight of history. Heavy with the weight of context. Takes some of that pureness away and fills them up, in return, with the colorfulness of what can be touched. Of what can be lived. Of what can't be argued. Of what can't be denied. Watching through the window of my mind... and it's raining ideas. |
 |