pg 6: Never been nothing

I guess there are two diametrically-opposed types of nights as far as soundtracks go. A lot of music is good "any time," but tonight's the kind of night where I had to stop listening to Broken Social Scene's Forgiveness Rock Record and put on Nirvana Live at Reading.

Been a little down lately. Whether this has anything to do with Eric or work or anything else, I can't say. I'm just detached, like the whole of reality is at arm's length and I can't connect. I'm no tragedy, I'm just bored and lonely.

The other day, I thumbed through a book of Leonard Cohen's poetry in Cole's. I looked at the poetry -- didn't really read it, as I had little time -- and was taken back to the earliest times I can remember feeling a fresh, new relationship with poetry, back in Grade 12. Since then it's been a few notable encounters, and as much as I appreciated Reibetanz's class back in first year there's no going back to those days of Guthrie.

I wrote something last night. I had a story that was 650 words, a nice but brief sketch, and I doubled its length to flesh it out and change the tone of the ending. I was rather pleased with the whole effect. It'd been a while since I had done even that much, so I'm going to try to reclaim my little streak from earlier this summer. I'm wearing my Grandad's old hat, which I think will become my writing hat, my reminder that as long as I'm wearing this hat, I should be writing something and not just idly browsing. I know what I need to do, but I've got a bit of a ways to go.

Well, keep at it, kid. And get back to the world, they might be missing you.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto