And I wriggle like a fish caught on dry land

I can't stop talking about Sting sometimes--though apparently I have for the last 7 years.

Do you know how you're pulling yourself out of and/or away from one way of being and surging, imperceptibly, toward another? 

Sure, this takes me back, way back, to MQ and Jennifer's room in Tower Hall, where one of them had this CD or tape, and I distinctly recall hearing half or most of the album in one sitting in their room, which overlooked the always-moaning Marquette Interchange to the south.

But since then, it's about the surging uncertainty in it. Positively tensed, and ready.