Is my phone vibrating or narrating? A lousy story of itself or something more, like the making of plans that sit me on Thursday evening trains. The seat behinding me is reminding me I'm awake and have been all day. Let's tell each other what we dreamed when we were nine. Since then I've been being and thought thinking until one day, when neither shall be done.
When percentages get boring, my thoughts get rude. About eighty percent of the talk I do, bores me. To put it another way, I'm not a chronic worrier. Reading my scattered mind on the web, the lack of hidden depths could surprise you. I've no dark secrets although I must disclaim this post was sponsored by the winter rain.