Ever feel like you're on the verge of something big? It's like that song that gets caught on the tip of your tongue, but it's not there. It's you. You're the song on the great smelly tongue of life, and you're about to get sung.
I've been feeling like that lately. Like a horse at the gate, another bad analogy just waiting for my cue to gallop down the track.
Something big is out there, and I'm ready for Tony and the Jets to sing it in.
What? not a West Side Story fan? tsk, tsk, tsk....
I keep trying to break it down into consumable metaphorical chunks, to chew it, so I can digest it, share it (well, the share would come before the chew, I promise), but the more I try, the more vague it becomes. It's a fog rolling in that blankets everything.
I was hoping by typing it here I could coax it out, bring it to life, but it's left me alone like a madman screaming "Snufflufigus!"
Maybe it's what I get for working at home alone. But that doesn't change the feeling. It's there, it's big, and I'm not afraid.
It's only just out of reach,
Down the block, on a beach,
Maybe tonight . . .
-West Side Story
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