For some reason and I’m not sure why. No coffee yet so not sure how long this entry will last before I need go fetch some for self. But yes… I’m different this morning. Like that Kerouac quote about the blank page, his life being one and he can do whatever he wants with it. That’s me… that’s how I feel. Like certain voices and entities can’t touch me, can’t get under my skin or into my synapses, no matter how they phrase or characterize things.
Going to get coffee, a celebratory coffee to be sure.. for this way I feel, for this strength of character, this new warrior I feel like this morning. Simplification, consolidation….
8:49, have latte from Oliver’s and can’t stop thinking about all he people I saw working there, so early. Asked the young girl who made this cup when she arrived this morning. “I have to be here at 6..” She said. Waking early and being on the page early, I thought for myself. The act of waking earlier than I do, and either writing or running.
Shedding my inner-Nietzsche. Allowing self only to see color and sky, the story in everything. That’s what will carry me to the office, to the Road, to anything I want. How did I get here, I sing to myself, the Odesza track. Then put on Coltrane again. He lifts me and tells me just work in poem, in music. Forget these paragraphs.
Worried about the week and sales but why… only so much I can do. Shifting things along with the shift itself.. Quick haiku written. Waiting for leave time. Need to be in Sonoma early, count inventory and clean room, maybe fit in some ore sentences and notes to self. Thinking in philosophy terms, again that meta and subject of the Now –