A few, brief, thoughts.

I have been quiet the better part of a week.  Possibly, the best week of my life, in many ways.

Since my previous post, I have been in wheel-chair prescription-limbo.

It’s bizarre.  How strange our worlds?

Become, when insurance enters our lives.

It’s not my control.  It’s shared control.

In order to gain control, I have to learn how insurance companies think.  It’s what I imagine before.

The alien, suddenly, in my dreams.

And this has been possibly the best week of my life, because, for the rest of it, I have only been writing, and meditating on my manuscript. I am now in full book-writing mode.

Beam me up, Spock.

To a heavenly place.

Each day, when I begin to type.

Thoughts.  Not my own.


Lately, at home in the evenings, usually.  I think about my writing and where am I going.

Fog clouds my next couple-three steps.

In the story of me writing a book, I am just a little stuck.  I can’t decide.  Do I not understand what next I need to do?  Or am I having some trouble with the idea I am striving to communicate?

This is how it feels right now.  It’s not a loss of confidence at all.  It’s just a feeling of befuddlement.

Recently I wrote an absurd thought in my journal.

Just write.  Just get ideas down.

And yet, right now, it is so hard to do.