4-1-25
Jack said he was going to play an April Fool’s joke on me. Ready and waiting.
Stay writing, I tell myself. Stop fooling self and talking SELF into certain holes and pits and sludges, that fucking mood mud. Writing.. that’s the way…. Quick 100 words to start day.
Nurse getting ready for trip. Me at the desk keeping everything simple and consolidated. One conversation and lead developing quickly, excited to see where it goes, this possible return to past vertical.
The day – 040125… a project. And I am a PM in this box, thinking outside and away from any “box”.
At desk, not allowing any complacency or stillness. Nurse ready for her trip, me somewhat envious or more so preemptively missing her, wish I could go with her but this is a girls trip with her daughters, one overdue and much deserved. Happy for my sweet, beloved Nurse.
Staying in my mode of production and renewed self-instruction… writing everything. Trying to get to 3001 words by EOD and with this momentum and new-month-BEAT, and all the caffeine I’ve had it should be no problem to reach.
Another rule for day… all words posted to blog. 3001, shit that’s a lot. Okay, well… people read or they don’t. Doing it for myself, as the Nurse recently suggested I do one thing, and then everything. She’s right – project 040125 with more than a mere pulse.
Getting in touch as some might say, with the most Mike Madigan of Mike Madigans. Playing a game, in one theatre. Then another. Survival, but not for long. Mindful, Mental Health, Happiness and Gratitude MANIFESTING anything you want. This is a universal principle, and I’ve found a recipe, a mix that’s something of an unlock, like the mixology notes I’ve been taking. Find one thing learning another seeing what sings well with what.
Running today. Hoping for 5 miles but more than likely will only log 5k or 3.25. Have to run everyday, or at least 5 days per week. Running around the house here. Tomorrow morning waking early and running.
Changing the routine and practice of the day to day – myself as a project and me the manager. Sip coffee, take a break, planning next vacation – Paris with Nurse next year, New York later this year, Turkey of course, and wherever else we think of. Like Italy, Italy for sure.
Everything we want and not a fucking thing able to stop us. Today is crucial in the purview and perspective. Moving as quick as a writer can…. Write your reality, don’t just think and speak it “into existence”. Draw it out.
With your words, your truest voice. FEARLESS, that has to be your habit and hue. Seeing all this morning, ready. So fucking ready. Wondering why I don’t always have this mind and attitude. Why fear a fucking thing? What can they do? Deciding, like the email ordered yesterday.
09:46
Nurse left. Now the real work starts. Focusing solely on the page. Managing this project of the day and new me…. Get cadences out of the way, see what I see, if anything,.
Slowing down a bit, not sure why. Keep going, turn it into a game, this corporate telecom swamp.
Breaking from writing. Nothing happening. Returning to page when I’m compelled, when something MAKES me write.
…..
11:42, finding old wine pictures, anything. With me in them or just a shot of a fucking cluster. I know where I’m supposed to be… passion, going to be obsessed and waking excited and feverish to get to property.
Time for lunch soon, thinking of going to Nugget, or maybe… I don’t know. Having something here. Like what…. Find another picture. This one quite old and seeing old frames of my kids, my daughter when she was just a baby. Like, a BAY-BEE….
Time reminder, again. Don’t freak out, just write it into existence. Wine and its business and what I want from it. To write it. All… all the people and the stories and the refusal to engage anything that isn’t the highest and most evident echo of PASSION.
Enough of this settling on shit. Enough of succumbing to the perceptibly obligatory. No fooling me this April fools, Day 1 of Q2. Mom’s birthday month, and mine next month.
I am shaking with my conviction today…. What is this, in the glass? Thinking… hmm… Cabernet, more than likely. Was taken at Lancaster which is mostly Cab but you never know in the industry. People bring bottles to taste all the time, blind on one character or another, “Sow what do you think it is?”
A question I’ve heard and asked when I’ve brought a bottle hundred of times. Tonight I’m finding something surprising, something unknown to me, and a whirl of exploration and curiosity and Beat-like scribble intention.
Wine is gothic then angelic, stranger atmospheres encouraging joy’s chase… lunch over no new paragraph needed. Nurse letting me know couple minutes ago she’s taxiing out and soon to be in air. Aims tangle for the day – MUSIC and MOOD. LoFi at present…. #myMUSICmoodNOW, lifting off like my fiancee’s aircraft.
Gratitude quickly contracts the writer. How am I here, in this chair in this stunning house, with my Queen away. Working from gratitude and fearlessness like I said in ’22, just days before the new year. Newer year approaching this Beat… May 29th. Not far off. Time warning me, get your shit together.
Yes… NOTED.
Still no April Fools call from little Kerouac. Miss him, his brother and sister. Hate things are the way they are but not my choice it’s just the way of things, for the hoggish need, gratification and inward opiate quip.
When back in the vineyard, I plan on speaking to the Story itself. Thanking it as I now do at this desk with a sleeping cat and dog downstairs. How did I get here… that dinner in Novato, 2023…. ME, the Nurse, the Story, poetic nearness and immediacy.
Someone wishing me well-wishes, over Teams… I smile. More gratitude. DONE.