Your ears must have been burning that night, or the silence had finally gotten to you too. Slowly creeping out of dreams again, into the waking world. Such keen perception, and opportune timing. And all for what? Guess work and puzzle pieces flung into the tempest, void of reason. Anything seems to go here and all is fair in love and fear. Acting on pragmatic impulses within our chests. Fleeting, constant, constantly fleeting… where does one draw the line to cross it.