I spent half the afternoon trying to catch up on unread LJ posts. Boy was that wrong. So much pain and anguish! I thought it was just the heat. My feeling now is I want to stab out my eyes like that girl in the diner in the first Sandman book (Preludes & Nocturnes). I think people are too obsessed with love. I think it’s media manipulation and peer pressure to a large extent. I mean, love is great, but I don’t think it’s everything. And maybe the romantics will pounce on that sentence but would you tell someone who’s never known love to just end it because their life wasn’t worth living without it? Or are these just more signs of my growing older? When I was younger, did I think love was everything? (thinks, answer: no. Actually gave up on love around 16, 17.) I wish there was more art that affirmed that you could lead a perfectly happy life even while being single. That you are not nothing without someone else to make you feel better about yourself, or to acknowledge you, or to notice you.

Wait, what? Am I making any sense?

Gweilo’s Hour tonight at 9 on NU. Listen if you’re bored, some good songs planned.

Tomorrow at Gweilo’s Eastwood, some bands are playing. Perhaps you are interested in music, yes? Try The Extra Special, Citric Maple, another band whose name I forgot, and The Sabaytones are playing.

Laughter, oh, it is good.