from a journal …

Kids eating fruit, and you…. You work. You’re committed to the keyboard this morning and won’t budge. Yes, work. Work. You have your idea of what it’ll feel like when done with your project — More than a project. A journey, a Road, a something. Just for you. Knowing it’s warranted. More than needed. Sip your coffee and don’t stop typing. Don’t flaw yourself with deliberation r some contemplative curve. You get to know the character of the morning, right here. Right now in the seat, sofa, cushion.

Take another sip. Morning, work. Finish the piece, or not. Delay it. Enjoy and indulge in the process. Holiday for most. Not for you. And you wouldn’t have it any way other. You’re placed in your story for day. 7:22. How many more words to go. You don’t know and don’t want to know. That’s quantity. You’re more than all about the quality. You fight to represent and embody the quality you see.

Sounds from kids’ movie, I think Peter Rabbit, distract me. No allowing stoppage, no allowing pause or lull. Not now, not at this stage in my story, 8 days and 1 month before 40. I’m in a countdown of sorts. Last night brainstorming over video games and a final glass of Claret. Not yielding what I’d hoped. The only deliverable was the brainstorming session itself which was more storm potential and forecast than actual precipitation. Overthinking, and why. Why. Today is today and I can’t do a thing about last night…