I love working.

My brain is like a dynamo that highschool students present at science fairs. It is crude but unstoppable. It fits neatly in a diorama and I am dying to show it off. And because my brain is always moving (shark) so too are my hands; such stubby fingers typing, clicking, dialing, waving a wild dream through the air as I try to convince someone else that what I say is true, that the words under the hand motion are correct, and that they too will profit if only they would follow me. When they do, follow me, that is, we will work together, our shoulders slick with the perspiration of our efforts. We are taking in air and pumping out salt and magic. Every day I wake up burning, ready for the fight, ready for the new work that awaits me. Writing this for you.