I did write a post for yesterday. Really, I did. It's not like I took a holiday in memory of Bob Dylan's 'plugging in' at the Newport Folk Festival 30 years ago. But it was sappy and depressing, because I was feeling sappy and depressed when I wrote it, but when Monday rolled along, I just wasn't feeling it.
Basically, this weekend I drove past the (only) gay bar in town. Then I drove past it again. And then again. It has a reputation for being more for elderly, retired homos, but still, in two weeks, I could go in. I could go in if I had friends, that is. Waa Waa Waa, to be sure.
It was thought out carefully, to be sure, and more nuanced. But in the end, it was just another whiny post about not having any friends and my insecurity to let my hair down and have a good time. And we don't need any more of those.
But you know, I think that whole mindset's going to change. At least for the rest of the summer. Of couse, this new mindset could make it harder for me to move back to school in a month, but I'll worry about that later.
This post is more cryptic than I'm used to, but I think you guys get the idea anyway. I don't think I care, really. Right now, I'm just in a conventional dither, with a conventional star in my eye. And after the way my summer turned out, well, I deserve it.
Here lies a most ridiculous raw youth, indulging himself in the literary graces that he once vowed to eschew. Now he just rocks out.