Tonight I finished almost everything. I feel like I am orbitting the rings of saturn and waiting for everything to be sucked into a giant black hole around me the moment I stop. I am afraid of stopping. There is no escape. I will continue to produce and produce and produce projects like a cow being squeezed dry of milk. If I stop, it's all over...right? You already know the ending. Even before it's penned out on the cosmic page of everything and anything. And yet I want to keep producing and producing and producing there is no limit to the human mind. You can go sour, ideas can go sour but you can still keep churning more and more and surely you are sure to hit one good one, one good stick of butter in the golden mess of fat.
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