As I sit here listening to the Jazz of yesterday, Miles blowing blues, I’m thinking of what to do…seems like that’s everyday. My mind still has a cold, my eyes still numb ahhhhh but I’d like to write a long triumphant story about who I was yesterday opposed to who I am today. But would you even listen? March 11, 3:30 in the afternoon still feeling drunk-drunk with love,images, words- (Miles please don’t stop keep speaking to me) Sometimes I feel like I’m being chased and I can’t escape. chased by God, chased by the Devil, chased by words, chased by the blank page. Had a strange dream of my grandfather last week, he’s been dead for a long time now, but oh so real in my head. Maybe that’s where he breathes now, maybe I’m him, living in different skin and telling new stories. Have you ever felt you died before? well, I have. Think everyone should die once a day, to be reborn with new consciousnesses, new images stirring in their minds, for who wants to be the same person forever? not me. 3:45 in the afternoon, sun shining uncontrollably through my windows. Miles, well he’s still blowing his song in my ear, his trumpet so real to me… sounds so human that I could never express it in mere words. but then again, that’s what music is, something you cant quite understand, something that stabs you in the heart but feels so good.