Talking in lyrics seems tempting these days. Half way through the week, I am still working hard to get all those bits and pieces done. The things from my enormous list. Silly me. Late nights in the studio, dirty fingers, making a mess while making soup, making even more mess while thinking too much and a sudden attack by Autumn, in the middle of May. All this would sound so intellectual in a poem, in real life it simply sounds like patience and patience and some dicipline too. Extraordinary ordinary and still, the trickiest field to harvest out there. And therefor, I'll quickly return to that bubble of mine and keep on brushing. See you, after the sun set down or maybe not, but wishing you a wonderful Thursday.