Always sitting at the edge of my seat. Anxious and patiently waiting for something or creating something or soaking something up. Trying to soak it all up. Make it worth something. You know? The only thing you have to cash in. Your time. Just like this guy says:
In any weather, at any hour of the day or night, I have been anxious to improve the nick of time, and notch it on my stick too; to stand on the meeting of two eternities, the past and future, which is precisely the present moment; to toe that line. You will pardon some obscurities, for there are more secrets in my trade than in most men's, and yet not voluntarily kept, but inseparable from its very nature. I would gladly tell all that I know about it, and never paint "No Admittance" on my gate.
Thoreau. In Walden.
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