Half of the Brain :
the place all those random thoughts that flit through my head each day go to die

there and back again

and there and back again and there and always there. At times consistency is comforting, I realize that. There's a measure of safety in that which we can predict and control, but aren't there just days when you have to ask, where do we go from here? Today I've been plagued by a desperate sense that there's just got to be more to it than moving there and then moving back again. In a grander, cosmic sense I *know* that there's more. I just don't always know how to conquer the sense of complacency that surround me daily.

Sigh-- I think I'll contemplate more interesting things for a whilr