In the middle of field notes

My work email is not working. I go through my field notes instead. They are written with sloppy pens strokes along highways, on beaches, on stone covered squares in Swedish towns, in sunshine on shopping streets. In between my work notes fiction, ideas, training schedules and nonsense gather around in a revolving mess who’s only connecting point is that my hand has written it. This is page three. And this is the song I listen to today. I’m gonna go ahead and call it one of the best this year,

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