I spend numerous hours a night just thinking - not brilliant thoughts, great poetic verses or concept-shattering,algorithms - just stream-of-conciousness ramblings, concerns, worries, anxieties, aspirations, desires, fantasies, reveries...these moments of thought, seem more like a great (ok - not so great - but usable) piece of machinery from the 1940's Industrial Propoganda adverts - all cogs, whistles and noisy, black parts - processing widgets. I get lost watching the widgets be pressed and shaped (designed in an irregular pattern to match their creator) and racing down the conveyor - my boyfriend frustrated stands on the sideline calling out to me "Dinners Ready", "Did you feed the dog?", "Can we have sex?" - and I just don't hear him, I forget where I am in a book, I miss half of the episode of 'Will and Grace" (...why is Karen dressed up as a magicians helper anyway??) and invariably I piss off my boyfriend. And in the end the widgets get spit down different tubes and those tubes turned out to be mismarked - "Cairo??? That part was going to Toledo?" - and I lose track of even why I was thinking this hard in the first place. Sometimes this aspect - this part of me - frustrates me (and others), sometimes it soothes me, sometimes it frightens me and sometimes...

What?? I don't know ? What was I saying anyway......