Just about finished "The Everything," which is 2200 words long, and as strong as anything I've ever written. Also nearly done with the Beatles Love Songs piece, which is 3000 words, but there is still some ways to go. The quality of the excerpts in this journal speak for themselves. Ran 3000 stairs. Phone is static-y, so shut it off. Hope this is just a case of some moisture getting in there and it will dry and the matter will be resolved. My mother found a notebook my father kept, and it was for me. He wrote in it on the fifth anniversary of the day they adopted me. He said, to a future version of myself, that I had changed their lives, and he loved me, and hoped we would always be best friends. It made me cry and miss my dad. I ask him for strength with what I am going through right now. I wonder how we would talk about this, if he were still here. I think he would believe in me and my outcome. I think he would encourage me to keep going. I spoke to one of my oldest friends as well today. They had read six new stories, and also listened--twice--to that radio segment from last night. And they said, "People don't know how to talk to you. Part of it is the not having a 'kissable ass' thing, but they also don't think they can say anything worthy, or that they'll screw up the compliment. It sucks. They say nothing instead, or something stupid. But you have been my best friend for twenty-five years, and even now, when I read your work, when I experience this art, even I think, 'I can't believe that I know this person. That I talk to them. That I can phone them.' And that's me, after all of that time." Anyway. I forgot my hat today. It's not very cold--upper thirties. After about 700 stairs, the sweat starts dripping off of you. The beanie makes a difference, because it doesn't start dripping from the beanie until you've done quite a few more, and even then, the beanie controls the sweat better. I wrote another entry on here that lights some people up in the extreme. A necessary one. I will put it up when I put it up. It's all true. I'm fighting, man. And I'm keeping going. I think my father would be proud of that. I think he is proud of that.