Ground control
"This is Ground Control to Major Tom You've really made the grade And the papers want to know whose shirts you wear Now it's time to leave the capsule if you dare" I feel that there is going to be a major communication error about to take place very, very soon. You see, progress is finally being made after several years of feeling abandoned and stuck in one place. We've finally got movement and contact, I am no longer drifting in space entirely alone. Something is out there and it wants to help. "for here, am I sitting in a tin can, far above the world. Planet Earth is blue and there's nothing I can do." The communication error would be that I simply do not know how to translate without the means of poetry or my bizarre metaphors, and perhaps I should try, but maybe not here? Maybe somewhere... fresh. A new ground if I may. See, I have to somehow put into simple words how my mind is uniquely wired and how I am tormented by the operating system