Baby we're so tragic
Did you know that just about the only site I read these days that actually makes me feel inspired to write afterwards is Knowledge for Thirst? It is a fucking sonnet. I wish it was a magazine I could read on the subway. It makes me want to be a better man.
I spent a good part of my afternoon blasting The Ramones and chewing my bottom lip and writing “You are so full of shit” over and over to myself on my notepad. I vividly recall fifteen years ago (FIFTEEN YEARS AGO, half my life ago), Sharpie-ing black the pink cover of my Mead spiral notebook while blasting “Never Let Me Down Again.” My thoughts, they were too serious to live inside such a happily-colored spiral. I was Making A Statement. Couldn’t you just die.
At least I’m in the right frame of mind for what I’m working on. One thing Cringe has taught me is that I have zero patience for teenagers. I always thought I’d be one of those cool adults who Understood and Listened, but now I realize that I’m like, Yes, life is hard, but you are not the first person to ever have a thought and right now your skin is so supple so shut the fuck up. Go draw on your notebook. Please, go form your personality somewhere far away from me. I should totally have kids.
It’s a good thing I chose a career for myself where I am often on deadline, since being on deadline makes me such a complete treat to be around. Do you miss me? You should not.