Sick of the same music.

And I don’t mean music as in what I listen to, but certain functionalities and consistencies in day.  Leaning on photog’ and visuals more… less editing of them.

Waking earlier and taking a picture of the window and how nothing can been seen outride but the night’s opaqueness and loving void and mystery.

Stretch… simplifying certain efforts.  Shorter sentences.  No need for the python prose.

Does brunch sound good?  Yes.

Time won’t catch me.  I won’t let it.  The numbers become emaciated in meaning and vanish.  I order such to strut.

EVERYTHING writes ME.