my notebook

i carry a moleksin notebook with me almost everywhere i go.  it's usually in my backpack & i take my backpack with me, as i just said, everywhere.  my backpack also holds my lunch, the books i am currently reading, some poems, some notes, & my air pods too.  i used to be in the habit of writing a little everyday.  recently i've written little.  i let myself go fallow.  i also have an iPhone & have become a habitual - some might say addicted - user of my phone.  what a remarkable device.  i can read/listen/watch & even make a phone call with it!  my phone has also become my notebook.  i keep notes on it, & i am writing a series of poems on my phone too.  so it surprised me when i pulled out my moleskin from my backpack & placed it on my desk at work.  i figure even if i don't write anything in my notebook just having it in front of me is a fruitful act.  it is.  because i opened my notebook & wrote down an inchoate title for a possible poem.  then i started scribbling various thoughts & lines.  i let myself go.  gave myself the freedom to write whatever without feeling the internal pressure of making a new poem.  it felt wonderful like good exercise.  the muscles & the mind humming in harmony & speed.  i date my entries too.  so it shocked the hell out of me to find that i have not written in my moleksin since march of last year, 2019.  i think the big gap comes from two sources.  first i am taking notes & writing poems using my phone, & the second is this blog.  i often compose directly on this blog.  okay, fine, fer sure, but man! again, a whole year passed since i last cracked open my moleskin.  it felt like only a couple of months had passed.  i was shocked.  time might seem to crawl in my mind, but it doesn't.  time is racing at light speed.  not for the first time too.  i remember watching a david lynch movie, lost highway [1997], thinking it was still pretty new.  when i did see the flick it was many years after its initial release.  so what does this all mean?  i dunno.  i'm just, in the phrase of the japanese poet nanao sakaki, a happy idiot.  but for time not waiting for no one.  & that might be the most shocking thing of all.  i live in the present yet the day is forever turning into tomorrow.  bear in mind, i am happy i've kept a few notes.