Enola Rockin' All 3 Sails...
Dough Could Make the World Go Round

Always the Scheme.


 You prop up in a hotel bar in the middle of no-man's-land...and drink, and work, and scheme.

Always the scheme. 

Every moment that passes, you get a tiny bit deeper with the fierceness of the scheme.  And, while you scheme, texts and emails roll thru.  Things like this:

1.  Them - Yo, buy me a MAC.

Me - No donations punk.

2.  Them - I am stuck in a cab with a lost Indian man and his wife doing circles on the turnpike.

Me - Come straight to the bar.

3.  Them - Men will never know the velocity of women.

Me - Probably cause we don't ever let them.

4.  Them - I have never hated a human being more than I do at this moment.

Me - I have no words.

5. What time will the volunteer from Australia arrive tomorrow?  

Me - Huh?  I don't know.  I have truly forgotten what day tomorrow is.

This is an honest day-in-the-life.  Not even a 100th of it.  Amazing what flows thru while one schemes.

"Is this show pitch any good?"

"Why would she lift my cigarettes?  Get your own damn cigarettes."

"This weather is for the biz-urds.  Can't wait to blow this joint."

"I am so sorry I slapped the back of your neck so hard.  I simply could not resist its ripeness."

"I despise this state."

These words flow on with such immediate impact, it's hard to comprehend.  All that said, bring on my boy Am's bale.  That is the above structure.  Am is my field director for 4th World Love in Indo and his bale is a spot for MAD MAD MAD scheming.  No money needed.  No connects had.  Just the brain on stop down and embracing all the ideas that roll about.

Miss it.  Need it.


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