Sun. 3/2/25

18:00…. Sometimes the Story does what it wants and you just ride.

And here I am… missing the Nurse, questioning some angles, and wondering my mind’s why of the next day, and week…. Why can’t I write more freely, live the same.  Speak in certain chords, and if some are just bullshitting and playing.

NOTED—

What notes?  Do you write them? Never mind the vent.  In kitchen and only a certain number of hours left.  Seriously thinking about taking a day to SELF tomorrow.  You know what, the fucking play-safe cape is anything but.

And I need quiet.  Meditation in the loft.. quiet, with devices off.  Write solely in journal as recently rattled.

My one aim—  This book.  ME… making SELF happy.  No eagerness to appease or please or writing some safe-type read.  No more…

The honesty and directional expressive dimension to this blog is going to change.  Hope the other table can keep up.  Superfluous fluff, always. Here going into the next scene and next and next – ample candor.

18:05….  Seeing a new STRENGTH in this writer.  Loving all folds and denominations of.  So…. Write EVERYTHING.

Been a while since I looked prolonged at the tattoo on arm left, Ms. Plath’s Beat—

I AM.  Strong.

I AM.  Calm.

I AM…..  making mySELF happy.

And nothing is stopping me.

Tomorrow should be interesting.