Typed 1600 new words for book.  Can’t believe how quick I did that.  Looking forward to morning coffee, playing with little Kerouac.  No class tomorrow night.  Happy, to say least.  So hot today.. sure the vines are happy.  Don’t want to write anymore, after that huge sprint for book.  But it’s what I have to do.  I can’t just sit here, on couch, and not write.  I’m not even sipping anything.  Well.. I will be in a sec: sparkling lime, like night last.  Hopefully something new occurs in morrow.  I don’t care what it is, long as it holds positive ribs.  Like the other morning, when I woke before 5am, started typing.

Travel, on mind.  Journaling everything I see.. capturing all characters.  IF a reader walks away with anything, from this log, it’d be that I love writing, and I want to see the world.. so I can WRITE about IT.  My birthday, in 9 days.. already dreading confirmation I’m 1 year older.  Maybe I should allow an all-out Gatsby, this Saturday.  Yes, I’ll record, but I’ll partake as well.  OR, I could stay home, enjoy whatever incredible red bottle I want, over a meal ordered in, from 1 of my preferred SR spots.  No idea how to play.. but I have to suit Self as if it’s the last.  Appreciate each day, especially ones I’m expected to celebrate.

Need that water, now.  Tired.  Going to watch the news, then bed.  Can’t wait for coffee.  Don’t know what it is about that morning ingredient– of course I do, it’s deliciously assuring, a multi-colored melody for my inward telepathy.  Tornado in midwest, Oklahoma, destroying anything.  Think it was Oklahoma.. anyhow, it was unreal, what I watched.  Would love to cover that, as a journalist, writer.  Starting to see new visions for Self.. in the who, what, when, why, where, how.  NewJournalism–

(5/20/13)