in my thoughts and thoughts within thoughts as soon as I woke up.  Alarm was set for 06:45 but I was up well before :30.  Quick shower then text and call with Nurse, then down here to loft where there are no sounds other than these keys conveying circling seas.

Blogger and writer friend of mine writing me briefly yesterday, updating me on some projects he’s bringing to fruition, one of which is getting national attention.  Of course happy for him, but now at my drawing board with intensity new and I have to say a newly growling scrutiny.

Of self.  Yes.  But not in a negative way.  Journal asking this morning about compliments I receive, what about me people acknowledge and admire.  I respond ‘passion’, and that I’m trying to recover all of it.  I need to especially if I’m to do what my friend has, with his projects and ideas.

Overthinking, the enemy of enemies, the breeder monstrous of self-doubt.  DONE.  The espresso confirms it.  Just keep writing and thinking…. Recording.

This moment will never happen again, this quiet kitchen and LOFI beats I just turned on.  Mindful, grateful, at peace in this loft… the end-aim, obviously, to write from here and have that be the anchor.  Then, other beings – wine, health and fitness, a restaurant like my friend’s down the street.

07:25…. Greedy with time, but what will that do.  Peace, take time… ignore the clock.  Patience, what I need to get better about, I know.

Kids still asleep, Nurse texts me something sweet, again, and my gratitude is atomic.  Seriously, how am I so lucky?  Why did life choose me for all this love, and.. just….. goodness?

Just be grateful, don’t overthink it.  Song I’ve never heard, adding to Room.  Meditation…

See your Room, study it, but not with so much intensity you’re unable to appreciate.

Implementing what I’m encouraging.  Right here in this kitchen.  My mental, at present – clear and placid, musical.  Me in a new way more dutiful.  Renewed truth, and honesty in what I want from work, the work I do.

Certainly not some sales bullshit in a corporate mutant zoo.  No… no more settling, and no more fear.  More espresso, have to keep this momentum up, this BEAT.  Write like Kerouac, not stopping the song like some crazed drummer so into the jam session that stopping is an unknown language and thought circulation.

This play list has me more, more me… the me I’m written to read.  If you understand what it is to write, and be a writer, then you feel what I do in this room now when you put ink on a line, or type like Kerouac or HST in a freed spree.

07:38……..  Dog barking, then stopping.  Something about the way those slightly metallic sounding scratch-yells bounce off the sides of the buildings…. I don’t know, sense of place I guess.  Taking all this in, all of it.  The gratitude in the espresso atop the journal, the pen, this laptop.

I AM… alive.

I AM… in love.

I AM……..   Seeing.