Much like the electrons of an atom, thoughts spin around my head wildly, randomly and without a place to call their own. ‘ Words are shit, because they put you somewhere else. I’m trying to catch the things that are in between.’ – Steve McQueen Or, much like electrons, I write down what I’m thinking, collapse a wave function, to create a point of view from the bubble of nothing. But the thought is not the fullness of what I’m thinking or the thought itself in full. What is on paper is a slice of time – a spot on place and location that reflects, maybe, the direction things in my head were taking. Or maybe, the point of view comes from a twitch -- just a powerful oomph of dog eat dog movement in my head that claws its way out when the pen hit the paper. When I write a simple declarative statement, it becomes a condensation of a cloud. Probabilities and understandings getting squeezed like toothpaste to form, essentially, a thick point in time. The time gives the point a vi