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.