I'm only authorized to say thank you.

I have, to my occasional regret, mentioned my ongoing internal dialog that sometimes requires the help of a keyboard to be deciphered. It sloooooows meh down. A very good thing. Martha Stewart sweater set not included.

So yes. This morning, I...well let's back up a bit. Baby writer's block happened. No matter what you do, even if you never write more than a check, you've had writer's block. Basically, it's your brain thinking,

"I want to (insert any manifestation of mental effort here )."

Crickets chirp, people cough while your brain waits for (insert any manifestation of mental effort here) to happen like it's some other body part's job to make it happen.

Writer's Block..

baby, in this case.

"What to do? What to do?

The outlook was decidedly blue."~Gershwin

So yes. This morning, I....  I opened the document to untie the knots, or more accurately, to keep knots from forming in the first place.  Before one keystroke was added, a single thread manifest itself.

"Say thank you."

Thank you,

for a few things.

• a green hummingbird that didn't dive bomb my head, though i almost wish it had.
• water.  go stand at the ocean. heck, take a long bath. you'll know what i mean. 
• the way onions smell when they're cooking in butter
• my people, all bunches of them.  you are my life. you are life.
• that c♮ → b♯ → ∞
• the very big door that i'm invited through every single time i remember where to find it. this especially.

"Keys" by Vladimir Kush