Keep thinking about the commute, the kids, the future… how you let consistencies consist. Fuck, I can’t type fast enough. How did Kerouac do it with a fucking typewriter when this thing nearly fucking types for me—
Calming…. Listening to old poetry. I’m different after the appointment. I don’t know, not as much concern, or fear, or anything. 20:49 —
Hear a voice behind me, in the driving area between the two complexes. Maybe someone on a deck.
Not sure I’m posting any of this… I just can’t believe I got through that fucking root canal. Took a few pictures, selfies mostly… wow. I did it. I overcame that fear and yes the nitrous gas was helpful.
20:55… Will be interesting, see how this evolves. Here I am, on a familiar stage. Killing this wine, getting ready for bed so I can be up for that useless call at 07:30.
Time shrinking like lifespan. Morbid, I know. Getting house ready for close.. can’t believe I don’t feel that pain from last night, or one before, or before…
Think I know what’s happening – the denotation and connotation of this newest Shift—