Writing to rain. Need to go for a drive, one short. Maybe to the bookstore, bring a notebook in case ideas precipitate as well. Sipping some berry-flavored sparkling. Water, that is. No bubbles for a while, although they sound nice now, paired with some strawberries, dark chocolate… More wishes. Cleaned out my work bag, so again the writer’s desk is quite cluttered. Enough to make me want to go for a walk, or drive. Still raining, I think… Yes, after checking out the window. Again asking Self the question, “Where do these pages go?” As I reasoned earlier, only one place I can afford to put them, in this “blog.” Moving on, my character, Kelly, on thoughts. More so, I think, as it’s raining. Stay-inside weather. For Art. Craving a little wine… To late to taste, as most Rooms close at 5p. Except for Mayo, but I don’t want to bug them again. Those Zins would be worth it, though. Especially that ’09 I tasted. Was surprised by the AC%. Can’t remember exactly what it was, but it was up there. Didn’t taste hot, though, which shows winemaking mastery on a number of levels.
At this age, I have to ask mySelf what I really want, with writing, what it delivers, invites. Too much to get into now, as I’m capping Self at a certain word count, but that’s what’s on my mind. Seems like that’s all I think about. No mocha today. Not that shocked. More proud of Self than anything else. “Travel light, as a writer,” just flashed in my inner screen. No more carrying that obnoxiously corporate-looking bag, the laptop monster. Just a notebook, phone, earphones, the coffee. Oh, and pen. Love the ink, the way scribbles look, especially when ultra-rushed. Reminds me of brush strokes, color-littered canvases. Kelly, my confining character. More pages, for her. Sooner.