the thought process, the 10 minute drill, a writing game that I can play that only has one rule write whatever comes to mind for the next 10 minutes. I can write a play, I can just right down things that I want to say. I can write about schools and the process of learning. I can write about football and the time I learned I had prescience. I can write but sometimes I can’t really tell what is going to come out of my head until I actually see it on the page. Of the many things I could write is the amazement I feel at finding out that my fingers know where the keys are. I write as I think and it flows from finger tap to the screeen in one smooth or almost smooth flow. I write and I think that what I know is some magic thing, some wonderful thing that I used to wonder at when I was a boy. I can’t remember when I first learned I could read. I just remember doing it. I wonder where those first books came from. I wonder, because I recall just how difficult school always turned out to be. School was a place where I learned that I could use my brain to figure out how to get away with just about everything. I learned to lie at school. I learned to fake the hell out of my self by never really caring what the school wanted to teach me. I always went the other way. I maintained a new surface though. I played sports really well and that helped. I, as I said, could read. I discovered early on that I had no interest in playing the school’s game. I did what I wanted and never cared very much about the consequence. That may be why I enjoy reading and watching movies about the asocial in our world. Dexter, for instance, is perfect for me.