This Is an art, some sort of tide that runs through my mind like deep chilled ice. I take a moment to chill, but my mind works like a massive clock. Never stopping, all you can hear is dead silence but a steady tic. Tic, tac, toes as I cross my x’s and o’s. The words fill my mind and the phone keeps vibrating. My mind is telling me to share these vivid stories to the world. A world filled with many dreams and ambitions. I’m afraid to mention that I have them too. A narcissistic egocentrical turtle, afraid to come out of the shell. To unveil greatness not for a lack of standing ovations, but a sense of fear of where it might take him. When the bottom is all you’ve felt you’d hate to feel it again. Yet the imagination of being a winner keeps your ambition contagious to break out. Like a virus my words will be spread. Smoothe like butter, the peanut kind mother used to spread with jam. Jamming to your favorite song on a hot summer day. Sipping on lemonade freshly squeezed from clear water. This is an art that that the tides can’t take. It’s Clear Waters…