words found, explored, and examined, and they make sense, understanding reached through time and space, similarities where none were thought to be, and commonalities are found in the strangest places, with the strangest people, with just words on a page, that had to have been written by some flesh and bone, but other things, actions, thoughts that drove no action, not paralyzed by fear, but judgment, procrastination taken to the next level, and the makings, finally, put into place, and the whirlwind, reaped, well, the sprint like pace of the year can't continue forever, it has to slow down sometime, and now that a 3rd of the year is coming up to be over, maybe now is the time to stop red lining. silver lining on clouds in a blue sky over a summery spring, and a season missed, at least from the windows of the 6th floor looking down and out, over and above, cram a year's, or even multiple year's worth of living into mere months, like squirrels and ants hoarding for the coming winter, and the inevitable famine, the end of the harvest, when the table's cleared, the fridge is bare, the vines whither away, the days grow long, and melancholy finally returns home