This is a bit of forced entry, I'm making myself put the virtual pen to the virtual paper. Exercise exercising my demons. I have a jumble in my brain, a bee's nest swarming and buzzing and concentration has been hard for years.
I live so often in nostalgia, in the impulse to start every passage with the nagging brain pull of the past.
This is now, this is future, this is the Push.
It's been slide and survive for so long.
We move on and cast out the insects from our skull, find the calm and peace. Waves in the ocean. The Black Sea rises. I've tried so long to call back, Daniel, Katie. The chessboard. Memories of Tomorrow.
But now, this Tume, this time, this this... I'm covered in spider webbing, saran wrap, sinew of life.
Tear it all off, does that bring me a calm or a focus to become a titan?
Do we stay wrapped and buzzing in our coma of work, life, social media and bullshit just out of fear. If we rise above it, do we cease to strive?
I'm ready to relax, I'm ready to destroy.