One more day.

My streak of writing what I'd like, as opposed to practicing ("practicing in public") continues.

At first it felt a little rebellious (yes, that sounded as dumb typing it as it likely does to read it-- follow me here), but I've warmed to the idea. I like having a place to just cut loose. To freewheel whatever I want. To scoop up this pile of letters toss it in the air like the leaves in autumn and hope they stick the landing.

And if not? Fuck it. I'm having too much fun to much mind.