My parents constantly tried to keep me focused on doing my chores and school work. For some that might be easy. For me? Thoughts would arrive then I'd spend the next few hours trying to understand the rooting system of why it was given to me to think. In January of 2016 plenty of thought poured from my writing instrument onto the pages of my daily writing. Most of the time I can take the three pages and make sense of the entire picture. But not this particular day. Several layers of expression were laid out like a teachers lesson plan. One such paragraph of thought will shoot over your head so far that it won't land anywhere near you until you come face to face with a different day. Then you'll say "Wait that's what he was talking about." Here's that paragraph. I need to prove to myself. That to be a leader in today's new age of sound collectors. There is a place of plain sight. And its the industry of ancient that keeps the next level of success from crossing the bridge into a layer of connection. Now that you've ready it. What are you waiting for? How many more days do you expect to set aside your dreams. You see them. You hear them. But your feet won't move.