Class done. Wonderful discussion with students and my notes were successful in that they lead to exploration of ideas and Kerouac and writing itself. Full-timers around me talk. I don’t listen. Meeting five days from now, second from the one I had at day’s end, Tuesday, could change everything. EVERYTHING. Could accomplish the aims of this 30-day inner-talk in one staple, one gavel drop. Posting this to blog as I’m elevating, not stopping, and want to share. Have to. When the effort started, I was with lower ebb than usual. And now I’m leaving ground. Selling myself, yes, but more so educating ME on this new Me that’s more than just vision, more than just crafted and typed and posted. Class done, but not. And I’m not stopping. I shared with them upon meeting’s adjournment, “Stop never. Hate stops.” I keep taking notes and revising, this morning doing just that with the Carpe Journal, which I haven’t touched in some time but always have on my person, in my Personhood and integral in my movement. Was a gift from Mom & Dad a while ago, and now essentially full but I find little spaces to scribble. I’ve essentially declared I will never stop noting in it. I’ll always have space. As I told the lady I met the other day, “I write.” That’s how I track, inventory and self-eval’… And, I found by story’s placement or Universe’s orders a clasp, one of those black ones you can buy at an office supply store… now part of Carpe, used as a marker, so I never, ever lose my spot, I know where to jot. Holding its pages tight as I do.
Students outside instructors office, talking quietly or trying. I want them to speak louder, so I can learn, I can re-learn how to learn. ‘Always in class’, I wrote. Clearheaded, remain. In love with life, this only life, and all its realizations and punctuations— all paragraphs and lessons, times and dotes. Wrote in Carpe, “What do you want? What steps do you intend to take to arrive there? At your ‘there’?” All my words serve as the steps. And, I’m almost There.