Tested a bit today.

OH, can I say that….?

In the loft.  Haven’t been here in days.  Know the truest of aims…   write books here, enjoy a better espresso machine than the one I/we have in the loft, marry the Nurse… be happy.  Why do I need to fucking…

Censor myself.

Ever.

Why is this blog so much looked at rather than other realities?

I can’t influence lunacy, it seems.

So, enjoy the LoFi.

Poem early, at lunch, the Chinese spot on the East Side, with that lovely owner… so sweet and hospitable.  Remiss this writer for not bringing the Nurse there yet.

What do I do while here, what do I accomplish?  Feeling failed in a couple regards.

I have over two hours or about two to work, produce something, log some new opps.  But, distracted… 

Yes, by that angelic Nurse girl.  Focusing on the music, this writing.  I just want to fill a page, take time for me.. appreciate the Now, here in Windsor.

JO tells me that I need to understand where my mind is, the life type I’m right to imbibe.

My words, not his.

More verse today than paragraph lab and convention.