Writing freely in reaction to them.  How I never should have left and continued study in Kerouac, Poe….

–>

Messaging back and forth with the Nurse, then emailing one conversation, then another, then connecting with an old industry friend.  Haven’t spoken to her since teaching days in tandem with Chalk Hill Road.

Funny, thinking about time that way.

10:24.  Emma finishing her waffles a bit ago, like 30 minutes or more.  Now just freewriting.  Broke my code, AGAIN, where I’m to write on page before typing.  Not like I do that often, but still it registers with me today, and I’m frustrated with SELF.

What will that do.  The perplexing knock of self-scold.  No more.  Laugh it off, and I am.

And not just that.  New Composition… Composition, COMPOSITION.  Deconstructing new thoughts on the practice of, lexicon of perceptive ascension.  All smiles and positive riles.

10:34 now what.  Kids relaxing—  Oh shit the laundry.  Like the Nurse says about me, ‘SQUIRRELS’.  Makes me smile, and a little laugh leaves me at this nook table.