Writing
Feel it in your fingers. Writing is not in the mind, it is a rhythm in the joints it is a bodily dance onto paper. Flesh out of joint leaves an inky mark. Stuck keys are syncopated lover making rhtythms.
Scene change. Struggling with the everyday.
Find an empty room, empty of you and fill it with you ego with your orgasm. Find the moisturiser with whatever is in reach.
Lots of little bits buildiing into a packed structure. Break it down and explicate the detail of what is at work here.
The handwriting age lives on in the travelling gonzo.