You know the kind. The kind where you slip down the slick rope of pretention and realize that you have scraped your skin across the grit of concrete's peel. Broken you bleed art across the landscape of your vision and sit and cry in stairwells of lost dreams. Or you are pissed off at the role you are forced to play in a bleep black bracket of thrumming dance of car tar scandal and the hummmm of the city sleeps beneath your thoughts. And so you walk away for a while ... you walk through the streets and notice the little things that generally escape your attention as brisk wind floats across the frozen thoughts warming your vision for a second in time. Today was one of those days. You know the kind.