my mind was wandering, as it usually does, darting between thoughts of my next artistic endeavor/marketing strategy (sure to garner me immediate riches, infinite stardom, and numerous accolades. HA!) and fantasies, ranging from what meal, caffeinated or alcoholic beverage i might prepare and ingest tonight, sure to cancel out any benefits gained from my strenuous cardiovascular ritual.
i spun my ipod to 'browse,' then 'artists,' then 'radiohead,' finally landing on 'the bends' and tapped 'play.' no better music to zen out to, and i was in the midst of 'planet telex' when my mind remembered a recent post by
drums.
then, not a half step further my eyes looked down to find the remnants of a torn up, driven over, pulverized piece of a cardboard box (below)

was this a sign? am i depriving the world of its next percussive darling genius? my instincts say i'm better off using this delapadated piece of pulp in a future assemblage. i think chuck