…..

Still at the Villa.  So happy I decided to spend tonight alone while the Nurse and her daughter are at the concert.  Was somewhat invited to a UFC watch night, but this is what I needed.  LoFi beats and wine, writing, confirming my next shift.

Back in the classroom, and returning to wine’s stage.  Yes I’m saying it here.  I’ll be smart about it, I promise… but I need passion.  No more of this fucking obligatory.

The Nurse the other morning talking about her work and what has her passionate even when the throws are loud and budding.  I need that.  I am lacking a certain strain and sinew of music, the day to day WHY of it all.

That Cassidy way of thinking.  Some could call irresponsible but it’s not.  You’re alive one time.

ONCE.

And I’ve already almost died, so fuck compromise.

This house, the Nurse’s Villa, my beautiful girl… have me in a growl most fruitful, like a tornado but more centered and rhythmic, no destruction or inner-combustion.  

Just composition and love.

My gratitude is the principle mood and tune.  All hues and dues.  So, no more of this funnel-fucking rouse.  The PROFESSOR is reborn.  No tolerance for any deal or leveling, spreadsheets.

I’m in a newly said BEAT.