moo of doom

I am too old.
I am too old, too tired, and have too much other, better things to be doing with my life.
I am too old.

Thus is my mantra.

I am too old.

I won’t get into details about this weekend, but I’ll give you a little teaser: I think I may have gotten into a fight with an inanimate object (like a couch, or a parking lot.) I did not win. I am bruised, I am broken, and I am not 21 anymore. I am making myself write 1000 times today as punishment: “No matter what your dreams are, you are not a rock star.” Excess does not always = happiness. Why do I do this? Why? Why? WhyWhyWhy?

I am too old for this.

I love my friends. I love that they take care of me. Yes, in my mid-twenties I am finding that I still need a babysitter, and apparently a select few fill that role for me. And yet, as much as I love them, I know one thing is true:

These people are slowly killing me.

Other things:

My former employer is intent on busting up Washingtonians sense of “s’fun.”

Washington Post

From Dave Eggers interview in the “Harvard Advocate:”

On Keeping things Real:

What matters is that you do good work. What matters is that you produce things that are true and will stand. What matters is that the Flaming Lips’s new album is ravishing and I’ve listened to it a thousand times already, sometimes for days on end, and it enriches me and makes me want to save people. What matters is that it will stand forever, long after any narrow-hearted curmudgeons have forgotten their appearance on goddamn 90210. What matters is not the perception, nor the fashion, not who’s up and who’s down, but what someone has done and if they meant it. What matters is that you want to see and make and do, on as grand a scale as you want, regardless of what the tiny voices of tiny people say. Do not be critics, you people, I beg you. I was a critic and I wish I could take it all back because it came from a smelly and ignorant place in me, and spoke with a voice that was all rage and envy. Do not dismiss a book until you have written one, and do not dismiss a movie until you have made one, and do not dismiss a person until you have met them. It is a fuckload of work to be open-minded and generous and understanding and forgiving and accepting, but Christ, that is what matters. What matters is saying yes.

I say yes, and Wayne Coyne says yes, and if that makes us the enemy, then good, good, good. We are evil people because we want to live and do things. We are on the wrong side because we should be home, calculating which move would be the least damaging to our downtown reputations. But I say yes because I am curious. I want to see things. I say yes when my high school friend tells me to come out because he’s hanging with Puffy. A real story, that. I say yes when Hollywood says they’ll give me enough money to publish a hundred different books, or send twenty kids through college. Saying no is so fucking boring.

And if anyone wants to hurt me for that, or dismiss me for that, for saying yes, I say Oh do it, do it you motherfuckers, finally, finally, finally.

Finally, elle, finally.

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