Iceland is bankrupt.

WRITING! Oh such serious writing! How to write for a career, how to write stories, be a novelist, devote yourself, dedicate yourself...

Or how to scrawl on the page as the latest thoughts and visions converge and the question appears: When will Chrome open Blogger in a separate application window?

Stories can tire. Dropping thoughts onto a page and dancing for effect while others labour is clumsy. To write day after day about nothing in particular in the hope of conveying a great deal more, the view of the world shoved into a sentence and capped. No escape.

It hangs above me here. Up there, nailed to the page above me, the thought is trapped within the sentence, there's a whole story within the sentence, but the sentence has been capped and there's no escape for the story. It's there to be examined.

When writing classes and functions, a sense of control is attained, and unit testing can certainly seduce the critical faculties. The idea of examining a squashed sentence didn't necessarily stem from this, but it led to it, converged somehow.

Converged (again). The word gets repeated like the news.

The sentence told a story, but the sentence was capped and the story suffocated.

Dehydrated eyes have led to an earlier than scheduled finish.