assignments, staying up all night talking literature with my suite-mate Dan, then going on targets of writing and hip-hop, guitar, what it was like growing up in SoCal for him and the Bay for me.
All the thoughts, how I got here and what I did prior to today. Years, years, and more…. Wanting to be a professor. The Nurse calling me that and this “professor” feeling like a fucking fraud…
What do I do…? Part of me inclined for a scorched Earth approach. Really, but not. Caring less, just going for it. And then some reading this are going to offer their guidance and safe advice…. You have kids and a mortgage and responsibilities and more and more… then the other energy, demon, contributing what IT may—
Like the Nurse says, I’m in my head. Get out, she always urges me. Why don’t I ever listen? She has all the answer and there’s still this will or thought to resist.
WHAT THE FUCK MIKEY, WHY???
Calming down, finally… Nurse on her way. We in Vegas this weekend. Sure that’ll be used against me somehow, but after this much time I am in no way of worry.
All of it, BURNED.
Messaged the Nurse. Thinking of her story and looking at pics of us from a year ago.. here for family dinner then Fig the cat on the counter in VV. Time, like it’s nothing. Like it’s not time, like it’s…. Something made up. Like WE, are all made up. A dream within a dream, Poe always speaking to me and shoulder tapping at the best time.
Learning from my own notes, the tasting room, classroom, then these other fucking piggish gigs.