| Reading old posts really takes me back. I was a hell of an angry writer. Angry, but inspired. What does that say about me now? That I don't read as often, I guess.
P.S. "women. obviously"? What was that about.........
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Does there exist a song better than Don't Stop Believin'?
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Writing is so incredible. I'm going to experiment this summer with rampant writing. Not this moment. But soon. Look alive.
To self:
Books
- Guns, Germs, and Steel - A Portrait.. by Joyce - Rimbaud - A Confederacy of Dunces by Toole - Nine Stories by Salinger - Unbearable Lightness of Being by Kundera - Madam Bovary by Flaubert - Swann's Way by Proust - The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
...
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| One aspect of getting old is the callouses. I think teenage angst would lose its iconic snarl without that virginal feeling of never having experienced it before. There is something otherworldly about the first time. It will affect you the deepest and usually burn a memento in your mind, too. Under normal circumstances, you will never react as passionately as you do the first time. The birthplace of idealism. And as magical as the blank-slate kind of naivety is, it cuts deep when you wake up from it. It is a really gradual, metamorphical wakening. But when you are fully conscious, you will really be a lot more mature. Or older. Or just better able to cope with difficult things. Whichever you prefer. And maybe it's sad that you'll never be as young and affected as before, or maybe it's only natural that you've grown up, but at least it refrains from the extremity of the full force of before. I'm really glad it does.
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