One of my moods on this last day of reg instruction, SRJC, but I try to write my Self over such wall and I look for something I can’t find, getting soaked in the rain walking from here and back to the car in the C Lot– Interrupted as the theatre room on the other side of the door in this office plays some loud dance music, I’m sure as part of some presentation, one of the students. Need more coffee (How many times have I written that.), pairs with the weather better– and I need skip back to the goddamn C Lot to drive car to the lot next to Emeritus as the rain’s supposed to be heavier, later, and I don’t want to walk all the way across campus. Ugh, that noise on the other side of the door, drowning out my jazz which infuriates me. Feel like an old man, saying in my head something to the tune of “Fucking kids and their loud ass music…” But I calm, focus on Hutcherson’s chords, mallet hits. What I want from today: pages. Wined thoughts. Images: me next harvest, ’16, making my barrel of Merlot and selling it somewhere, somehow.. I know, no bond, I can still sell it to friends, family, other industry people (those I trust, of course). Is that bootlegging? I don’t know, but if I’m paying for a little over a half-ton of fruit, I’m making that money back and then some, you can assure the story.
Thinking of going to the library, leaving my stack of papers here, coming to get them later, and why not– Need post to teaching blog, the rubric for the essay, and my thinking scatters like herds do when a helicopter flies overhead to get footage of them scattering from the helicopter sound above them. A postmodern puddle like all the puddles in the C Lot– stepped in….. making the back part of the bottom section of my pant leggings saturated.. a day for the beat and all that he does in the writing life, the thoughts he puts into his journals– and what does one learn from this? To write yourself from your moods, ones that hinder or directly hurt the writing. I’m a student I’m a versifying penner, no particular aim but every intention to be heard and read and grow away from adjunct trapeze.