The King of Infinite Space

It's the drive, the long night ride home and the space that your mind makes there. I want to write it, and maybe the logic of the road weary, which is to say none at all except the fluency of memories shuffled like dreams. All that time to think can be a sentence or a fascination. You are the king of infinite space in your little nutshell. What are the qualities of your dreams?

The thing that I can't escape is the idea of all that sky, all that land. It does something to the quality of your thinking. It does something to the way you create yourself. 

I don't have a narrative as yet, but I hope to try some out here. Which I guess is as close to a mission statement as I currently have: to use this space for a multiplicity of selves, to wait for the good stories. 

I will also be one of the selves here. On slow idea days, how much easier to simply put my own thoughts here instead? It's inevitable. But the hope is that a story will emerge. Not just sketches scattered through several notebooks or ideas that may or may not be captured in words, but to collect the threads here, in one place. Perhaps the proximity will allow them influence each other. To see if I can't take this suspicion of a story out of my head and suggest a way to tell it, a way to organize it. 

Right now I'm operating in a vacuum (with the possible exception of my good fiend Pete). But if you're not Pete and you've happened to make it here, please tell me what you think. Of anything. (I already know Pete'll leave me some good pointers.)  Thanks.