I continue to plod through the power of myth by campbell.
My writing has stalled with advisees and the saturday course in full swing.
Hoping after myth, the semester will be over and leave time for Being There by Kosinski and On Writing by Stephen "you ain't never met no Dr. Martin Luther the" King.
Why reference Eddie Murphy's Coming to America in my existential confession?
Because that is the best I can do.
It's all relative.
It's all a part of the human drama, playing out before our eyes, unfolding the duality back into the unison...
Yeah, the best I can do is part and parcel to/of the human drama.
And the best I can do, right now, is a middle name quip.
I'm tired.
Been up since 4:45am.
Have logged 16 miles in 4 days and the little guy is getting up during the night.
Is this an excuse?
Excuse, recluse, too loose, the noose is too tight with your thinking brah.
Loosen up.
A little light stuff, a little substance. A little of this, a little of that. Don't over think it. I know you won't.
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