I am having adventures faster than I can write about them.
I am kind of a sweet and happy Jack Kerouac.
A voyeur, merely, like he, but I accept it.
He was, of course, a better writer. I am pretty mechanical. Like he, I want to maximize the info per word. I am annoyed by flowery verbiage. But he could do that in a single pass. Me? No. It takes a few times through my material.
As fast as it may seem that I crank shit out, I am actually as slow. slow writer. And so, patience, Dear Reader. I have some miles to walk before I get back to the last story.