Early to write, but in another room. Collecting thoughts and musings, dreams and plans for the year new approaching. Giving self a different spiel. I deserve it. We all deserve something new for the new year but we have to be the gifters if we’re to receive anything, if we’re to go anywhere. In this room, quiet before business opens, I just sit and write, but more so see. See what’s in front of me, what’s at the 12, but still studying what’s at 6. In this new year, we ought live more madly, more creatively… more of our own song and rhythm.
While frustrated this morning, waiting for the ice slab on windshield to just bloody go away, my inner-math started to talk to me, in some unknown tongue. It ordered that all math, all calculations need remain simple. There’s no need or reason or reasoning to complicate. Ever. …
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