It's raining here in South Philly.. Last week I turned the big 'ol ambiguous 23. So like any grown teenager who was romantically involved with The Smiths and Sartre, I've been a moody wretch. Of course browsing through Forbes Top 30 Under 30 AGAIN has been a major bummer. Now, I know I'm still young...but the thirst to pat myself on the back each day is insatiable. I mean, I have a great job and it can be totally fun and/or total chaos - that's great.
Today I received a picture of this postcard from my dad:
This is a postcard of the Ephrata cloister in Pennsylvania. Kinda spooky.. I gave this to my incredibly talented 25-year-old wayward friend Mark a year ago with my parent's address on it. He told me he was going to "head west for awhile." I haven't seen him since.
The message was shortly phrased but nevertheless sweet.
Holy crap, just found this postcard. I'm in Junction, TX. It's raining. There are horses. I really need to send you more songs... been slacking on the distro.
Are you still in Philly? Sincerely, Mark.
Immediately, I listened to some of his old lo-fi songs (last.fm/MarkHenkel)
I don't care about the pat on the back I've been craving. I just want to write, draw something, compose anything. I am so drunk off meager life experiences.
Stupidly happy right now,