wrapped around

So much is going on inside my head, it's hard to articulate anything into speech. They remain thoughts, as scattered and flexible as the bubbles floating across the surface of a tub.

I've completed a few big things, anticipate opening cans of worms and also watching others disappear.

Lot's to think, less to say.

But someone had something to say. I didn't read it, but the idea of a personal note on your windshield is nice, eh? Last note I got on my windshield (besides a ticket) was from someone who found my parking job particularly bad. Enter curse words, exit character. Whatever. When was the last time you saw a friend's car- or bike- and just said hello on a real piece of paper?