Wanted to write a ‘#papablogga’ article, but decided

img_8055to write freely instead, celebrate this night of quiet and decaf downstairs while the dryer flies upstairs making those non-patterned cling clank clug clung clunk sounds.  Waking tomorrow at 4.  There is no doubt.  I’m not giving myself much option to do anything else.  Only wake, write, be creative.  May workout a bit, too.  IF I’m thinking in terms of branding myself, being my own story, or … whatever I’m trying to say… personal brand… then I have to be extreme and visible with everything.  Right?  Shit.. I can’t afford any more delays at my age.

Going to take more pictures and try to do something with them.  What, I don’t know.  Just want to play with images, see where they get me, if anywhere.  Probably nowhere, if anything they’ll just be garnish to the writing but at least they’ll be decent, or better than decent.  IT’s funny, actually, there are times when people will read my blog and say they “like the writing” but “LOVE the pictures”.  And I get upset.  I probably shouldn’t, but I do.  I’m a proud writer, who like photog’, or maybe even loves it.  BUT, I want to be seen a writer, always.  Just something I had to say, or get off my chest.  MY branding, about being a writer— discipline (hence no wine tonight and waking at 4 tomorrow), volume (1000 words to 3 FULL pages a day, target), never stopping.  Need a quick break, will be back in a handful of breaths for a couple hundred more words before sleep.

I’m not fucking stopping tonight.  So maybe I won’t sleep.

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