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August 25, 2011
The compulsion sits in the comfortable pit of its design unbeknownst to my engineers. By its whimsy it has its way with me as a pawn being a dim mountain in a dense fog thinking quite the opposite. No harmonious line has the tiniest affect on the main melody but construes the conflicts ensuing as the driving becomes difficult and the navigation impossible; so one gives over to the inner pilot believing it's the correct and proper thing to do...that it has your best interest in its practiced hand. The wheel, handled deftly, secretly, turns by the driver's will.