Only thing I know how to do is keep on keeping on. My friend Lisa helped me this weekend xerox the pages for my book, The Crossroad I'm gonna debut at Stone Soup. We have an eerie amount in common, and it made me really happy that the girl who sat silently that one time at Stone Soup who I thought seemed so interesting came and said she liked my poem. Her poems rock, too. I wish I could write like that when I was 20, and I wish she wasn't leaving so soon.
We are obsessive, foolish girls. And it's okay. And it's fine. We're writers, we're melancholic, and that's okay. Emo? Meh. Labeling something as emo when it's genuine doesn't help. It never helps to apologize or feel bad for one's feelings. We have to experience what we feel in order to really grow, to really live, and to really move on.
Saturday night Open Bark and a full house. Tonight Stone Soup with a surprising range of young people. Chad asked Al and me afterward if we knew them. We did not. "You think all the people in Boston under 30 know each other?" I asked. "Well, sort of," he said.
I read some older poems from my book. Afterward, Jack Powers came up and tried to tell me something, but I couldn't understand him. Al concurred that it seemed like he was trying to compliment me. The only word I really understood though was, "okay."
Jack and I both are Virgos.
Two days off from work in a row now. I don't even know what to do with myself. Hopefully I won't get too depressed. Part of me wants to take off and go to Maine, where I've never been. Just drive, sleep on the rocky beach somewhere. Eat fish chowder and talk to the men with white beards.
But hopefully I'll get some writing done. And some reading. Hopefully I won't get too depressed.
Now back to PBR and the long stapler.