me now

21 Jan

08:20.  No tables, so another of these sofa chairs.  Need to get my own office, wish I had one now but this is what I make part of this— not part, but the whole, wholly me and my poetic materiality.  Not bad, only cars stop right to my left for drive through on window’s there side and they distract me— or I let them.  Why.  First sip of coffee, much ore convivial temp, after asking them to drop a couple ice pieces or cubes in there so it’s not blistering hot, as I described it’d been before.  Not that I was complaining, and I wasn’t, just wanted something to contrast my coffee’d regularity.

Collecting before second day of semester, tomorrow.. Noting all I can on both books before we dive in.  Plath, HST.. Each word, each variance in mood or tone, like me this morning intent on putting multiple expressions on page but who knows with the time I have.  But then again I’m reminded that I can only use the time I have and not obsess and abscess over time lost or time I don’t have.  You never really ‘have’ time anyway.  Meaning, in true possession of it.  Able to control it or steer it.  All we can forwardly and visible do is create with the clock we have.

Breathing in the coffee shop decisions and umbrage, universally and poetically inciting me.  New days, mornings, always instruct on character, vision and Personhood.  Kind scrutiny and inquest, inventory of your story.  This is how you self-educate, not by merely attempting self-awareness or even achieving it, but understanding you and your presence, story, through self-study, notation.  Would love to be in my own office, but all I have now is this chair, and that’s what I use.  27 minutes till I have to rise and get in car, drive to property.  You use what’s already and most immediately with you.

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