Spring has brought about a restlessness. I shift constantly in my chair, sitting behind my desk. I gaze out of the window, my thoughts drifting in a sea of...blankness, discontent, impatience. I daydream of Jardin des Plantes in a Parisian winter, of all the furious machines bleating and bleeping in a pachinko parlor in Osaka, Japan, think back to the hours I spent with a best friend hunched over coffee in a dark and enclosed cafe above a library. This spring I think less of the future and more of the past. I wake up at 6 in the morning, go for a run, read my book, and I can't shake the feeling that there must be more. More than this.