Nothing clicking, or connecting.  Still haven’t gone for that drive.  Learned a friend of mine has been rising in the wine world.  Or, old friend.  I am after passion, HAPPINESS.  Can’t take this waiting, this stall and hover.

This is my story… getting out of this career coffin.  I’m still a-fucking-live.

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15:17, finally got out of the house, went for a quick drive.  Window lowered and pretended I was driving in Burgundy, staring at Pinot fields.  They were endless, and I they spoke to me in their conjured reality.

I’m going back to the vineyards, and can’t get there excessively sped.  So I write it into reality.  Keep self alive and seeing that crush pad.

Still nothing happening at work.  But that’s my doing.  Or, partially.

Wine I tasted years ago.  In the glass and no idea what it is.  Something red.  The stories and passions told to me from people that said they one day wished they had their own room and story and now they do.

Wine memories and futures telling me to stay in the chair.  Type till it’s LIFE.