Friday Night/Saturday Morning

October 21, 2006

It’s stupid o’clock. I’ve been sitting up reading Douglas Coupland. Here’s a confession: I’ve never read anything by him before, but once nodded sagely when someone mentioned Generation X.

When I was a child I use to consume whole forests of book bound paper. Reading would be my inbetween reward for doing real stuff. Homework, school, going to sleep, waking up. Later, when I became anorexic, reading made the time between meals go faster. 

Perhaps it’s because my life has got so much better that I don’t read as much anymore. Blocking out life, or trying to accelerate it is no longer necessary.

Perhaps the fact that I’m sitting here alone, reading Eleanor Rigby is a bad sign… 

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