6-30-95

See Dick run.

9:36pm
One cup of coffee, two loads, and I'm chewing on a brownie as I type. I have been writing most every night for the past two years. And so, here am I. I have literally meandered to this place that I find myself. Happenstance. There's that word again. For my next phase of writing I'm going to build a structure to work within for a yet to be determined amount of time. Definition. Direction. Determination. Life as I have come to know it is coming to an end. My left hand knows not what my right hand is doing. I can see the value in that. It is nice to know that both hands are in the game. This game of life.

9:51pm
Master. Structure. Perameter.

If my writing acts as a mirror, I can pull myself into it, or climb out of it. Make that 'and.' And climb out of it. The simultaneous inbreath/exhale of the eternal life. Synchronous. Synchronicity.

2:22am
Topic per month that fits within the yearly topic. What topic could I focus on for a year?

2:40am
Down slides the juice.
Self teaching, self manipulation. Twelve steps? This is, once again, the final entry in the Mean Time. Chaos. Discord, when contrasted to chaos, is a welcom change. Will the Diety of Discord reveal herself to me again, in the ushering in of the phase that bears her cross?

2:57am
I breathe deeply.

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