Tuesday, October 7, 2003

Writing is painful. It's like a sore muscle. When you first get into it, you're overwhelmed with the frustration, and you're so tempted to just quit and go back into the fray of comfort. But if you work it out, if you just keep going and stretch yourself and give it time and effort, you can break through the pain and make the muscle even stronger. But I'm trying to write prose here, not poetry or lyrics. So enough with the metaphors.

I'm gonna miss the East Coast. A lot more than I would have thought. I really enjoy and actually thrive on change, and the seasons create a constant change throughout the year. California only really has two seasons, summer and winter. Few leaves change in the fall and it's usually warm enough for flowers to bloom year round, so spring doesn't do much either. My landlord loves talking about how life is about trade-offs. But he's right (in his awkward, rambling, forced authoritarian way). I don't have to deal with the shit of shoveling snow or having pipes freeze or hurricanes or tornadoes or any of that. We have earthquakes and we have no seasons.

I think I'll miss the accentuation that the seasons give. The drastic changes in lighting and atmosphere. Coming in from the cold makes the indoors and the people you share it with take on an entirely different meaning.

I was telling my roommate Charlie this evening how much I wished that smoking was neither unhealthy nor smelly and generally gross....because I enjoy it so much. There was something so sublime in leaning against a building, smoking a cigarette, and watching snow fall through the orange glow of lamplight. But they are disgusting and smelly and extremely unhealthy and expensive and furthermore relentlessly addictive. I don't even remember the last time I smoked a cigarette and I STILL have cravings. And I was never more than a blue moon smoker. But I resist. Too bad they're such great life props. Or maybe Hollywood's just convinced us of that. Could be.

I bought the entire first season of Six Feet Under on DVD a few weeks ago. I finished the last (13th) episode yesterday. That's a damn good show.

My motivation to write any more has receded like the flavor of my gum. I'd rather dream right now. Seems I've given in to the soreness...