4:30 a.m. -- 11 drafts leading to a final draft

Final draft: I have yet to hit my groove.

Draft number eight: I am aware of my surroundings, and this frightens me. I am also aware of my potential, and this enlightens me.

Draft number seven: Sometimes I think too much.

Sixth draft: Contemplation is not a waste of time. You can never think too much.

Fifth draft: I am here, and I need to get there -- and, man, I watch the planes fly over from my bedroom window, and I listen to the trains, and man, I -- I am here and I need to get there.

Middle draft, between the fourth and fifth: Some days, I put too much weight on myself and feel that I am letting everyone else down, but then I realize that this is ego talking. Nobody much cares about what it takes for ME to get from there to here. I care about it, of course, but it really doesn't matter much to anybody else. What counts is the "there" and the "here."

Fourth draft: I know what I am capable of, and I am frustrated by that.

Third draft, somewhere after the middle: When I think I'm close, I must prevent myself from stopping, at any cost. When I'm close, I cannot allow myself to sleep. Eating makes me sleepy. I cannot allow myself to eat.

Middle draft: I spend (a lot of) time waiting. Sometimes I wait because I know that the time is not right. Sometimes I wait because I know that I am not right (for the time). Mostly, I wait, confident in the timing -- the time will be right, and I will be ready when the time is right. I know I have not hit my groove, yet. I cannot die today. There is too much work to be done. I cannot die while there is so much work to be done.

Second draft: I feel that I have so much to say, but it's trapped, and the thing is, I am not convinced that it has not been me doing the trapping.

Draft shortly after the first: I feel destined, but that's a really cocky thing to say.

First draft: I have yet to hit my groove.