there is a world that has been growing within me, almost without me. tons of ideas based on the one picture with the girl in tights holding hands with the sunny sun, it sprouted and now it's the base for a book of short stories i want to write. i have a little black book now and later that saves most of my ideas although time is always against me, the home team, as it were, and most of them will probably sleep there for some time until i get back to them one day. of course, better saved than lost, and it's odd to think of all the odd things that i think about and never really recorded in any way before. now they'll be there, without me even.