I run to writing.

My morning thousand…. eventuated. Body wanting to not move as fast as I request, nor mind, but I force both. Elevating volume, Mr. Davis speaking to me, people in the Starbucks in their usual routines and pattern, and me here trying to break one somehow but remain in same creative vein. Writing, everything to this page, to this screen, keeping self more than “productive” but fervent and chasing my travels, learning from days long like this at the winery…

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