Find myself second-guessing.  What else can I do, when all I have are my own thoughts.  Well, a simple answer, DON’T FUCKING DO THAT.

Doubt yourself why.  What does that accomplish?  And all the fucking time you spent doing that, gone.  You’re not getting it back.

So, restart.  TOPIC.NEXT.

The Sales Heights idea started by taking some principles and practices and making them MINE.  And one, the idea of Authenticity and rather and ‘selling’, convoking.  Speaking from conviction and excitement, just that idea of TRUTH.  Fascinating me now more than any other time in this writer’s life.

Nurse to be out at a time between 19 and 20:00.  So, the writer has to produce.  No squandering.  Only production.

Writer yourself to IT.

Moriarty and Kerouac, one attitude.  Me.  Here.  Met a kid yesterday at Whole Foods, pouring wine.  He said I was the first person he’d ever talked wine with, in a gig like that.  His first pouring and show at an account of his.

23, his age.  And me, just fucking old.  Or feeling so right now.  No run today.  Tomorrow morning, swearing by it.  FIVE MILES.

Have to do it.  Can’t fail.  Start over, but actually START.

15:00, need some fresh air.  But where.  What does a writer do?  Different ideas swarming, directly at this sitting, this desk, this laptop.

Change, TRANSFORMATIVE thinking and acts.  The ’T’ in my S.T.R.E.N.G.T.H. acronym from the other week.  Think I have all the letters to memory committed, let me see…. Nope, had to look at the picture I took the other day.  Stoic Truth, Realize Energy, Navigate Gratitude, Transformative Health.

Haven’t had the espresso I planned to make but writing like I’ve had two doubles.