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For the first time in a long time I stood still. A stream that turned into an ocean that found its sand to break on. I've seated myself down and the tidal wave recedes. With music in ones ear. I write.

I've run out of music of late. My daily car drives to and from the grind has fulfilled a good remainder of new music needs(and I don't mean any of that brit-pop gems some people worship). I toll over older catalogues and randomly choose Carnavas and it is only until lucky number number seven reveals its head that the spiral occurs.

I hope this can remain the next beginning of change, out of our cocoon like state, that we swirm our way out of. Or should we say I?

Once a week should be a very good start.

Clean Execution?