Thought Heap No Good

img_85166:11…  Wife’s alarm already off once.  Jackie taking my place in bed so I’m down here writing or typing on my phone.  Today is sure to be better than yester’.  I’m sure, it has to be, I won’t let day prior repeat, even a sliver of semblance.
Son awake… Writing over.  Writing father pause.  Have to check in with nation at some point, the politic canvas, this newly elected Now, but I’m not ready yet.  Stomach a-rumble, and trouble inviting air into nose again.  No cold I hope, just some allergy something– and daughter awake.  Yes, writing definitely paused.

Couple more words—

No. Awake early but not the aimed-for time. Going in late to work and this morning is about teaching self something. What. No overthinking. NONE. And I feel a universal hypocrite as I instill such in my students but am never able to actuate it. This has to stop, I agree, but the first thing I’m going to do in simplifying my story and character’s perception of himself and general aspirations, is to get rid of excess— no clutter, nothing new even if I feel I have to. Use what I already have. Recently started a new blog, more of an experiment, really, with photog’, but this was in error. All to the blog I currently have, ‘bottledaux’, and for the rest of my life this Bottled OX with all his creative efforts and exploring politics and wine, fitness, self-education, all interests in one instrument.

I figure I have about 30 minutes or so to write. Actually 38— Start packing up at 8:30. Lessons, this morning. What I have to do aligned with where I’m going, what I want… Listening to my music in this downstairs study, feel like I’m saying nothing. Shit, had this feeling yesterday, and it did nothing useful to help the writing, or this NNWM rattle. So… I sit here and wait for something, using everything I have around me for forward. I’m ignoring politics at the moment. I’ll get into it later, and I know I have to as a new journalist in the political pulse. But give me a few minutes. Thought about getting my camera out, charging it for the time I’m here writing and taking it to the winery to take some shots, but today needs to be committed to composition. The first thing I thought of when I woke this morning to take Jack to the bathroom, a bit before 5AM, was writing. A series of essays, or blurbs, standalone pieces with an anchoring affirmation, not so much a thesis. So why not, I said. I went back to sleep, yeah, but when I did wake at 6:11 to thumb the above note on my phone I was ready for the day’s pieces to just downpour.

That one student, in my 1A class, completely unafraid to read her work. She always wants to read it, and not to boast or be self-indulgent, but to share her emotions and thoughts. She finishes pieces then markets them, orates, catapults her sight to her colleagues. It’s inspiring, more than inspiring, it’s re-shaping for me as a writer, seeing students do what I don’t. I write more than them, I’m quite sure, but they print. They submit. They read. Thought of this as well when I took out the phone to digitally jot. This student, I can see her traveling the country, reading, and what I learn from this is to be more unafraid. To live with fearless and nearly cocky placement in my soul and rhythm.

Couple more words? No. Have to go. Already 8:02, and I have to post, and edit, and pack bag. Be an adult. My babies count on the persistence of this papa-blogger, writer, journalist, crazy ideationist. A couple more words. Okay. How about ‘assured’, ‘yay-saying’, and ‘present’. Negatives not allowed, ever. I will not have my morning, day, or even minuscule shape from my life disfigured. Only elevation from here, and just going, not thinking about anything too much.