Fell asleep away from my alarm clock, woke much the same time as always.

Spent a little time reading some stuff by people I consider pretty good writers, always amazed when someone's writing seems to flow naturally. I imagine there's some art or another to it, but I can't help but feel they also lack my sense of writing everything on a distant wall with a long awkward stick. Probably also trust themselves somewhat.

As always, the prize for my morning exertions, a cup of coffee, pretty good prize.

Near total indifference can provide a pretty good simulation of being open and trusting, working on it.