8/25/13–  Destroyed Lawndale.  57:14, 7.35 mi, 7:47/mi.  Just posted to pedagogy blog.  My students, seemingly apt to engage by blog’s way.  Have to be organized, as I realized today on run– need a book out of this.  Assembling one before term’s end, then one at term’s end.  Will write right up to final session, when I collect final papers in Dec.  Like Capote with ‘Cold Blood’.  He needed them to die, even his friend Perry, in order to finish his piece.  Sipping what remains of the Syrah Crystal gave me.  Much better this evening.  More melody, voice, palate poise.

Keeping this entry short.  Want to write something in newJournal, as I didn’t have a chance to, today, taking my lunch quite late, almost 3p.  Wrote by 7,000 gal tanks, on a sidways’d bbl, atop head.  Took a couple stills, shot a video.  Going to visit my wines tomorrow.  Don’t care if they’re still a bit stinky from S02.  Want to see what they have to say, how they’re changing, how their characters develop.  This Syrah, telling me to be FREE.  From anything shackling the writer.  Wish I could recall all my thoughts from the run.  But it’s boon that I can’t.  Those thoughts were meant 2B part of those moments, those stomps.  It’s better that I don’t write them, that I can’t remember.  Love that Lawndale interval.  Should I do it again tomorrow?  No.  Didn’t get to see Kerouac tonight, which saddens me.  He grows too fast, as I ossify.

10:26pm.  Ready for spoken word, rhyme, word wizardry/surgery.  Where is the newJournal?  Oh, in the running bag, where I put my shorts, shoes, socks.  Was surprised how composed I was at run’s end.  Am I turning into a “real” runner?  Don’t care.  I’m running.  As a Writer [need to start capitalizing more].  That’s all that matters.  It’s “real” 2ME.