Already down to minute 24 in my 30 mins to self. So now what. How about not thinking so hard, like with the final papers this semester. When you’re at the writing stage, after gathering tentative sources (which, again, I only require 3 as I don’t want your narrative negated by “research”, or some bloody rounding-up of “facts”), just start writing. Who cares what finds its way to page… just type. Type feverishly. Polish later. You only have so much time. WE, only have so much time. In this set of minutes I have alone in my studio, I hear that new train, somewhere out there fairing through the thinly frigid and cut-gem-like air. There it is again. Of course, I think of travel. Shocker. But what people see while on their jaunts and exoduses, what they think they’ll do first thing when they land… What the journey will do for them, what they’ll gather, and how they’ll feel when the trip concludes. Just where my envisage goes. 2016’s trip nears its wrap, and we have to utilize all ticks and tocks of that infernal clock.
Still no music in the room, and maybe that’s what I want. Or, maybe not. What do I want? I can have whatever I want, that’s how I’m writing it, how I’m writing today, December 1st… So, yes, music….. There we go, some rhythmic atmospheric track by Block 16, “Slow Hot Wind”. See and feel self bobbing head while that first EQ’d string progression, single-string, comes in. See self when the year’s done, when ’17 lands. Just a new récit. Story. A new book, a new continent of self. How many minutes left…? Less than 14? What the bloody… What can we do. We have to work with the time given, with the story’s remainder. Yes. BUT… we choose what happens and what we get from what remains. So I think to myself, and you should to, “What else do I want?”