So here I am, about to resume what I had started... documenting the thoughts of this twisted mind. Like grand central station, thoughts come and go and you'd ought to be careful not to lose track of direction. Was it track 26 or 27 that took me back home? Either way, I am still not sure if I've stumbled upon the correct train... let's just see where this rush of moving steel and light will take me.

So far so good, I begin to recognize a familiar feeling... a natural flow of text and ideas. I look out the window to reassure myself that I'm venturing to the known. I move my head and eyes in conjunction with the cars on the freeway. This is quite much to ask of myself... my eyes sunken into the back of my head are protesting my request of them to focus. Connecticut plates are soon fixed to the majority of passing automobiles. Hey, whatd'ya know. I always took pride in my keen sense of direction.