3/18/24 i ALWAYS RAN
Its funny how we change, and struggle with things that came so easy before. I woke up today, quarter past nine, after four weeks of battling a head cold; the northeast, late-winter kind that fills chest, nose, and throat with congestion; and reflected on my old morning routine when I was writing Payphones and Ashtrays.
I was living in what I named my “divorced-dad” apartment; the kind where babies cry through cardboard walls, and voices can be heard as clearly as younger brothers rolling marbles in childhood homes. I would start each day at 4 AM, lace up my running sneakers, and blur through my five mile ritual of gliding over pavement, grassy fields, and fresh crosswalks through the receding night.
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