What do you expect from me? You come here occasionally, sometimes daily, looking to glean a little slice of thought. Why do I always have to be the one to think? I stare blankly into the screen at 1:07 in the morning, wondering why the screen stares so blankly back at me. I’m not a brilliant guy. I don’t know it all. I don’t have the answers, and I certainly don’t pretend to. Yet you keep coming back, presumably to see what I have to say. Am I that profound? Or is it just fun to see what’s on my mind? Do I actually stimulate your thinking? Or are you just bored, looking for something to amuse your eyes while you eat your breakfast? Sometime I can’t help but wonder what the point is. For me it’s a selfish reason, I need to think, I need to write. So here it is. But what about you? Why do you come here? Do you have anything to say? Sometimes I wish I could here it. Here the thoughts that echo in your mind at the end of the day. Would you ramble on about something that ticked you off? Or would you ask a puzzling question and saunter off to bed? Or maybe you’d tell a little tale, adding in a few rhymes and have yourself some fun. What would you do if they were your thoughts? Would you even open them for the whole world to read? Would you speak in cryptic tones that border on poetic insanity, or would you lay it out cold? Sometimes I just sit here and wonder, when I should really just go to bed.