A Will of Iron

I was so close!!!

I almost just broke it off. Bogged it like a top turn at lowers. This morning, I knew I was faced with the task of thinking of something to write about, but I had bigger fish to fry first. Coffee, check. Taking a dip, check. A nice greasy sando check. I had successfully cured my hangover and was off biking to the beach. I still don’t know what I was going to pen.

A nice leisurely bike ride to the sound track of tame impala, I followed up this hajj with a nice stand up boogieboard session. I think I did more “turns” that session than I did the morning surf. It’s been pretty shit. I miss cooking waves. A couple of laughs and some severe sunburn, and it was time to bike back. I grabbed an iced Americano from Vacancy coffee and was ready to roll. Still no ideas!

I hoped the coffee would help me brainstorm, but it rather got me stoked to do anything but write. I knew I had to pick up my roommate at the airport so that crept up on me quite quickly. I then again was off in the car blasting some new music that came out recently (DJ Mustard, Freddie Gibbs, and the Black Keys to be exact). We would then chop it up about losing money and the demons that inhabit the strip.

Fast forward and it’s 6 o clock. I’ve done just about everything I needed to, and also have done a shit ton of procrastinating around writing this piece. Of course, when I had the littlest drip of inspiration, I decided it was a good idea to make some dinner. Some friends also pulled up, so yet again I was stuck not writing. Do I just not write anything??

I knew I’d be bummed in the long run of not being able to keep up and having a chink in the armor. I really want to try to go a year of writing every Sunday. 54 posts that I can look back on and remember how I was feeling at that time even down to how I was feeling that day. I couldn’t give up, but what was I to write?

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