I’m sitting in my usual corner at the Red Bicycle, staring out onto a bustling, sun-soaked mid-afternoon, happily letting my mind wander.

Somewhere along the line, daydreaming became almost punitive. Maybe it’s the push and pull of adulthood’s largely unnecessary gravitas, or the Gary V types populating YouTube with hustle porn, but shutting things down and being productively unproductive’s about as fashionable as the pants I’m wearing.

But there’s a competence uniquely born from indulging inanity, and as I’m sitting here, letting my mind roll over everything and nothing, the second verse arrives, and I’m reminded that I’m not some woeful apparition of unactualized potential, but a Creator of Things, and there’s nourishing work to be done.