secret: dylan-fuelled impatience

For some reason the last few times I've been driving myself somewhere it's felt like I'm getting a lot of thinking done in between when I leave and when I arrive.

This has been the few-kms trip from work to downtown Armidale all of these times. So now I'm working on a theory that music and my brain are conspiring against me. Paranoid? Perhaps. 

All I know is, Dylan gives me depth and imagination and desire (no pun intended), Fractures widens the world for me so I can fit my angst into it, Hilltop Hoods makes me the hottest baddass in town, and Taylor Swift gets me pumped for activities.

There's got to be some science to be squeezed out of that somewhere, somehow.