Yesterday, inspired by Kafka’s journals, I did something I’ve never done, which is incredible to consider considering my age—I walked to a random, unseen before, coffee shop with only a pen, notebook, and book of poetry, and I journaled. I didn’t just write about my own existence, I wrote about what was happening around me. I know this isn’t new, but the experience was new to me, and it triggered a shift, a change in how I write, and I’m now eager to do it again.