one day i thought to myself. why not jump onto a yellow bicycle, dress myself in purple camellias, tote a grey garbage-can filled with thoughts and ideas behind me and ride off into a meadow polka-dotted with flowers. and so i did. at least in theory. but sometimes theory is all that matters. actions are simply the follow-up of original thoughts. a peek inside the liquid storybook of who we are. as people. as beings. flowing and twisting and turning. controlled but tinged with mayhem.