For class, reading. Writing. The journal. Open mic, but for something else. I want tonight to be reflective of my mood toward the academic institution, but with kindness. A dose of defiance. I have no class for Fall and I don’t know if I would take one were I offered one. After today’s talk on Kerouac, I feel more self-sufficient, -reliant. I don’t want to need them. Then don’t, I tell self. My thoughts on it all are non-thoughts. But one. It’s time to move on. It’s time to test self, teach independently, be free of the composition confines of a campus classroom.
All I need to write, create, self-educate, meditate, grow as a character in my story.
The day isn’t after you.
You are after it.
Like a wolf, salivating and enveloped in starvation.
Now, time to Self. Over 30 minutes I believe. Tempted to drive somewhere, back into the Berkeley hills, maybe. Listen to the eucalyptus trees move around as they do.
Forgot about coins being taken from car then I remember it again. Could have used money for business, laptop, something for me. Not now. Letting it go. Or trying. Doesn’t sound like it, now that I read what I just wrote. Little over hour left in field, then back to office.
29 minutes left. In car. The Safeway parking lot that I absolutely loathe. Always too close to other cars, always people driving without looking, and always people approaching me asking me something about the internet and if their house can be serviced. I don’t mind these people, locals here in Berkeley, at all. They’re all amazingly sweet and excited to see us. And, I put myself in such position by parking the car here as I did…. just what’s in my thinking, now. My Now, here in Field, doused in observation.
Wind. Already thinking about drive back, what I have to do in office, running tonight. Want running to be everything, my everything, and if ever distracted just say to self, repeatedly, “No. You have to run.”
Lunch at desk. Writing everything down as I always do but with more craze, more wild and rich, loving recklessness to my steps. Pizza here in office. Pizza Fridays. Everyone looks forward to this. The company, so generous it’s nearly overwhelming. Love it. Learn from it, I do. My company will be in this exact track and train of thought, tradition.
May start another blog—no I won’t. Promised self I wouldn’t do that. The idea would be something involving client and customer communications. Not so much “customer service”, but how the work is relayed and worded. So much in business is done not so much wrong but with unnecessary obstacles.
Brought 2 pieces of vegetarian pizza back to desk. Saw others doing the same, eating at desk and watching a show, or playing a video game of some type. I need this time to write. I don’t need to think, I don’t any longer and I promise my self loudly this, time to think. Just move.. all around blogging, and I will trap everything here.
I must wake early, tomorrow morning. And run. Ten miles, minimum. Walking hills in Sebastopol earlier with Field Sales team, taking the hills like I were racing. I walked them, yes, but with the same attitude as one running, like “I am doing this, I am taking this hill, now, NOW.”
Field Sales, an interesting voice and beat, beast. One of constant motion and depend upon, demanding a tireless momentum in re-writing your presentation, your words and how you deliver the words. Audience awareness, not so much brevity of speech but containment.
Where you are, what you’re doing. More value in that than you estimate. If you take a second, and inventory what’s around you, all the topics and ideas form their own idea den and paragraph lab. You feel inspired and moved, exhausted and creatively ablaze in a way you’ve never known. The holy contour of life wraps itself around you, begins instruction.
Need another piece, and maybe another. Hungry earlier while walking the hills, Mike was. Now, still hungry. Mike, eager to go to this event, which is celebratory of past year’s successes and advances. Like a rally, or gathering at a spot on Rohnert Park. Not that far away but just far enough where I can enjoy a Coltrane track or five, maybe more.
Two friends from another department but that sit in the same isle as me here in office leave. Taj and Leah. Both kind, very inviting and helpful when I need some inquiry quelled, and they both like wine. Asked both of them if they’d want to have a glass with me at the Rohnert Park spot they both said yes, told them I was thinking about getting more pizza then they tell me, or reminded me, that there’s food there.
“What the fuck was I thinking?” I say to them.
They both laugh. Taj tells me my stomach’s telling me to eat. I agree. But will wait till RP.
End of a day long, or just a day I perceive as long, on a repeat cycle unintentional but amusing, at least to me. Up at 5-something writing on phone, get kids ready or help then get them in car which my son little Kerouac was more than intent on doing so that helped, then the drive. Drop off little Kerouac at his morning daycare then take Ms. Austen, little Emma my love loving loves, to her schoolery. Then to work… meeting, then another meeting after prepping all morning for both meetings and day in field then drive to Berkeley. Walking streets with Sales Reps, then lunch, then a little more walking then drive back to Santa Rosa office. Need to write about my drives, the Road, the commute, more. I know. Tonight, I have less than what I had when walking through door back home. In just that small give of time, I lost a tremendous amount of beat. Why. Who knows. I don’t. Now with a glass of the red blend I bought the other day from Sanglier, during my short walk and saunter if you could call it that around the square. Already 9:57. I’m not giving in to my exhaustion, or this tired. I won’t. I can’t. I’m closer to 40 now than I was this morning, goddamnit.
Done with dinner, at kitchen island counter, in my studio home. No way I’m running tomorrow morning. Will tomorrow night, seen in head right now looking at clock and wondering if I should just surrender and give in to this tired, what I now feel. What if I didn’t. What if I embraced it. Write exhausted and a little sculpted from the wine. I come home to sleeping babies. Haven’t checked on them, but they’re up there, in their respective dreams and visions.
Mike starts with the normal morning tasks. But he sees them differently. With more love, more curiosity, more pace intention and momentum. Mike tells Self that today will be let to go as it will and Mike will step in only when demanded, and by step in he means grab the wheel and steer in direction different.
Mike gets the necessary items for day done with surprising speed. He does in fact surprise himself. He says to Self he’ll be more farouche in his creativity and composition habit for day. And all days forward going. Misses class, still can’t believe what happened on Wednesday happened. Well, he can ‘cause it was raining dozens of cats and double-dozens of dogs. He needs coffee, he needs to walk around, he needs to itemize and inventory everything, be more calculated, or calculating, tally and examine his calculations.
Weather today, not making much impact on Mike’s perspective. He writes down three aims, visions, for day– A thousand words, run tonight, shorter sentences. Quite simple, to the point, contained and contributing to Personhood and character coherence. More than self-coaching or education, instruction, or even discovery or exploration. Self-sight. Being participatory in his read of Self. Self, always needing capitalization. You need to see Self as something prominent if you’re to progress, he says to Self. Mikes smiles. He finds something. And that’s another aim… always present tense. The Now is Godly, is God, is all Gods and Goddesses.
9:04. Mike gets another cup of coffee. His first here at office but third for day, morning. The morning with everyone walking around happy it’s Friday and excited about the Quarterly meeting and assembly, food trucks later, and of course beer. Mike vows to Self that beer will not be had. Not only does he not drink beer very much anymore, the marathon was much closer than he estimated. He needs to get into runner mode, extremely extreme runner mode. Get new clothes for race, go for run tonight, at the horrible least 7 miles, 10 if he can. He tells self that he will have sparkling water, and if there’s none in the tubs of ice he’ll buy one from the market, perceive it as a running expense.
Mike remembers that he has Monday and Tuesday of next week off. He will run both days, over ten miles each run, and NO treadmill. The morning sings more to Mike, encourages him more, has him centered and centralized in his own eye and poetic abide.
The office, Sonic as a company and character and business poetic voice has him feeling not so much fearless or invincible, but directed, set, assured he will get whatever he sees. His sight is strengthened by Self, Sonic, the day, the way of ways in the morning and approaching day. Mike tells Self that he will see his aims for day, that there is no other Road. The marathon’s closer, 40 is closer, the new year’s been here for now 18 days. Storm, Mike says, “Storm loudly and make music never before put to sound, to anyone’s ears or eyes, any senses.”
Everything you see and feel and do.
That’s how you find character and story truth.
Writing on phone, in nook, new breakroom. Lunch. Though, I work. What I want. Tonight, meeting 2 of semester. English 100. Even after the first meeting I’m taken far into the semester, far past where I feel I am in week one. Already remembering more students’ names so immediately than last semester. I write tonight before it happens. Before there’s a possibility of occurrence. More progress into thought, thoughts, reasoning of where I am, what I’m doing, why my thinking and reasoning does what it does.
A Philosophy class. Stanford or wherever. On thought itself. Reason and reasoning…. examination and study of the Now. There’s a storm of reaction and reflection where now seated. Forgot again about promise to eradicate ‘I’ from writing.
Not eating has me sword-like in deconstruction and reasoning, my current logical layout. Nearby currently, hearing and seeing, wondering why the character is where the character is. What brought the story there, here, to the character.
Wondering if moving is necessary. Someone just poked their head in here, an area really meant for more than a singular character. Really, 4. Or more. Just the one writing here presently.
Hunger not speaking or paining as forecasted. Should spit out gum, have coffee. Suppress appetite as much as possible. No, cut back on caff’. Tonight’s lecture, on the night itself. The magic of meta and what’s already present and for observers and writers crafted. The philosophy of Now very much precipitates from curiosity. Not to be stuck in cognitive circles, but to reach several destinations while perpetuating ceaseless travel.
12:23. Words, for tonight. For when traveling and I’m nearly suffocated by observations, what’s around me. Doesn’t matter what I’m using as tablet. Long as there are words and me and my scene and that I’m reacting to what I see, thoughtfully.