I have a whole collection of small considerations with which to proceed, a tattered suitcase full of creased and somewhat dingy concepts and thoughts to be rotationally brought forth, dusted down, straightened, possibly ironed, for their proper grandiose presentation. Each new appearance is accomplished with is degree of flourish, an accompanying fanfare, suitable tadoo, as treasured antiques so richly deserve.
Ideas do not age like beasts, grow weak, fester, rot away, they simple await opportunity patiently, understandingly, joyous just for being recalled, eventually.
Daily Abstract Thoughts 