i need to do what?

the crunch is on for my article. i have five days and 2,500 words. and six interviews. and one p.r. department. and so much of it left to do.

i have a quiver of fear in me now, but it's all right. i work my best in furious states. i need a little more anxiety and a lot more juice. but i'll be working on it most of the day today.

coffeepot, hear me roar.

here's a photo i took yesterday after i parked. it's nothing brilliant, but i like it.



LATER:

oh, my phreakin' head. my old teacher, the one in grade 4 and 6 who pushed us like hell to learn to write, who taught me the beautiful art of transition at the skookum-young age of 9, mrs. potschka, would be so proud of me. for the first time since, i swear to god, grade 6, i've written an outline.

yep. when in fear, regress.

so, my outline for my article (i'm doing a cover-feature story for a local newspaper with a little more than a quarter-million circulation here in the city) is a couple pages, and i'm writing a draft now. i feel like committing hari-kari with my bic pen.

instead, the tunes are blasting, i'm chill-workin' as i bellow my tunes out my bedroom window, half-hidden by my shades, and confusing passers-by. it's "get miles" by gomez right now, which is exactly what i want to do, get miles the fuck away from here.

i love this city, man
but this city's killing me
sittin' here in all this noise, man
i don't get no peace
the cars below my street
take me away, piece by piece

gonna leave everything i know
i'm gonna head out towards the sea
gonna leave this city, man
gonna head out toward the sea

get miles away, get miles away
get miles away
get miles...