I'm thinking.

Every day, my interest in deepening my romantic involvement with creative writing swells. I'm thinking I may want to make more attempts at writing pieces of this-or-that.

I mean, it could be the EEG, right?

I like to think of art being the rawest, music being the most sincere, and writing being the clearest form of projecting your mind in a way that's five-sense-accessible to others.

Understanding a "me" in this world must require a gluttonous dosage of clarification. I can probably find some solace in writing.