" luck had nothing to do with it "

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back in town, good ole bklyn. welcomed in the deep of night with torrential rains, and the thick humidity wrapping itself around my body like a dank cloak. the transition from a coast to another is so evident, and the shift is met and acknowledged.

a few days ago i lost a planner somewhere along the road between burbank and los feliz, los angeles. it was the inadvertent victim of a moment of treasured bliss coupled with a blind-spot of forgetfulness. perhaps it was a lapse, a false memory of putting it away, or in the least making sure was secured in a bag.

but no, like a classic coffee on the roof of a car bit, my planner met the outside world with an isolated nakedness which i can only assume means it is residing in the streets, near a curb maybe, on the freeway, maybe on a lawn, or in a gutter.

it was so great. the replacement for another planner previously lost, this one like the one before it was handmade. bound with care and attention, cover, stretched and glued cover materials, hand-cut pages, days written in three different kinds of pen, holes punched, and put together with such delicacy, it became a singular object.

i only mourn the loss of this object, because i know it left my possession intact and whole, a supplemental record of my daily life for 6 and a half months. filled with notes on the day, the weather, who i met, where, and how much i spent on what, and how. it held dream sketches, scrapped meetings, and fulfilled encounters with great and respected friends.

it was lost like the one before it, but i was happy to know that in the least,  my desire to continue moving forward remained intact.

tonight's homework:

say your whispered prayers, light the candles, give ample time to note and register your feelings, pick yourself up, move forward as best you are able.

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