05.11.17

10:32

JOURNAL

The only thing I have left of my grandfather is a three fingered stroke on a keyboard, and maybe i remember his smile.

Today, Steven and I are going to the Latin Festival of Pensacola. I hope to meet Dora O. there. She is an italian woman, who dances salsa and sells real estate. I am interested in the former attribute.

Another sunny day, at 26 degrees.

I cannot keep Ana out of my head. Thoughts are vines never ending, only needing a simple spark to further line a groove or spread their mechanism.

I'm drinking coffee out of a Carpe Diem disposable 12oz cup.

This week will be for me. However, first today, sunday, I must make a sustenance. It should be chilli. In 1 hour I will be on the road with Steven. In 9 hours I will be in Mobile again. Will I have energy to shop, to cook, to sleep? I did not desire to drink coffee today. It was there, already, waiting for me to consume it. We humans will strike when the opportunity is on.

Or just me. Or just you. Or we.

You'll see.

It's easy.

Let us go the hard way, as Rilke said. Let me go the hard way. Though what is the hard way? I need to get published this year. Stop waiting.

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