I keep telling myself i wouldnt do it, not for a long while, or at least not till i get home.
It feels like ants have replaced my arm hair, and my eyebrows are truning against me for subjecting my pinky nail to mine for green gold up my right nostril.
Damn, what to do....
I pace a bit, trying to capture a hint of decorum, rationally and logicaly spining on my heels for another 180 degree turn thinking this is how Scruge McDuck did this thinking... a constant posture and flow, mind and body both traversing though and sensless oblivion. Actualy now that i think about it Scruge McDuck didn't pace left and right, he paced on a circle, to the point that the floor was discolored, and earth bleed through. I guess that is a visual aid to show how much the rich worrie of keeping their wealth, but bolocks to that, back to the situation at hand.
I think about timing, the importance of it, how it can sway a key decision, or destroy a mouth full of teeth, but timing is nothing if there is a countdown, then it becomes more of assesing damages, and least resistance.
Resistance.
I pictue a wind tunnel, with light mist blowing against a fancy new car, showing how aero dynamic it is to its possible owners.
Loosing my train of thought, i forget what it was i was worried about... something to do with waiting, something to deal with dicipline.... I guess the best way of dealing with a problem with dicipline/waiting is to forget about the issue and not think/lurk on its appeal huh?
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