Two days from 37, and I couldn’t care less. So much poetry last night here in the Studio, and this morning, writing a 1-page 700-something word prose piece and a spoken word verse. I’m not stopping, truly tireless. Changing EVERYTHING with where I started in my love of words— poetry. Rhyme. Meter play, and a fiddle with the sounds words make. Carrying around Mom and Dad’s Carpe journal today, in my sweatshirt pocket, writing everything.. bring about the ever-awaited equilibrium. Read my words, even if people don’t want to listen. I have to project, expel, propel every one of them before my story’s up. Nearly 8:30… have to get ready for work— shower, dress, pack, head to car, make time for sbux visit (much I don’t want to)— True anew Truth. Finally.