Readying for 5th and final meeting of the day. If I’ve ever proven I’m that “tireless writer” I’m always boasting I am, it’s today. Without doubt. Sipping this mocha, slow, and notes jotted for 17:30 meeting.
Distracted and now I’m back. Hate that I do that, and I can only blame my passion. But I keep going, readying for meeting and brainstorming when my brain starts to storm. But I think the storm’s over. Think I’m ready for action, this discussion. No one around me, now. All those high school students went outside, and who knows where else.
Stay tireless, I tell myself. I urge you do. The only way to get what we want is to charge at it, and do so tirelessly. And if we feel ourselves getting tired. Well, then, talk yourself out of it. Have a cup of coffee, take a stretch break, or just keep telling yourself that you’re NOT tired. That the work needs to be brought to fruition.
Looking outside, downtown Windsor, thinking about possibilities I dwell in. I’m going to actuate, and kill their possibility-ness. Make all actual. Story, finished. Well, no, keeping with its momentum. More students around me, right in front of me and I’m somewhat annoyed and distracted but more intent on finishing what I started here in this chair. There is NO getting tired. I simply won’t permit that mentality or anatomy.
5 meetings in a day… wow. Feels funny, how busy I’ve been and how quick the time in this day’s passed. Music in my ears, and I feel I’d hear it even if I took the phones out. Somewhat sped tempo with electronic, atmospheric notes and tones, mood. Hard again to concentrate on my sitting, but I lean on authors… Dickinson, Kerouac. In this 5th meeting, I’ll be literary but not too. I’ll be selling her and convincing her that she’s not buying or selling and neither am I. That we’re having a conversation. And that’s all this is, all any sales anything should be— conversation. Humans communicating.