I open my window and I sit and display my mind like wind chimes for the breeze to play. several times today I tried to walk away but I'm called back to this shit like there's something I need to say, but it's not just me, this pen is being led, do you feel it? That something that needs to be said? It's not just about my own thoughts being audible, this writing is a vessel, trying to catch what is possibl. So excuse me if I don't say much, I'm just the elevator operator, Can we lift you up, welcome, what floor? You choose what door do we need...