I went down to the storage unit and pulled out three boxes of books. I ain’t got room to store ’em, but right now I need them. To write, you gotta read as much as you write, plus all my language books and ahem, books on “self-improvement” were there.

Afterwards, I went to the Kava Festival. While I enjoy Kava, I don’t enjoy hippies or slam poetry and I especially don’t enjoy hippies doing slam poetry, and I really really want to punch mainlander trust-fund hippies that assume to speak for Hawaii and Hawaiians through their crappy slam poetry. (Self-disclosure, in my misguided past I did slam poetry and did it well, without trying very hard at it, which goes to show you the inherent worth of slam poetry.) Other than the folks manning the booths, I don’t think there was much real Hawaiians there. They all must have been at the Queen Emma Summer Palace taking in the show there.

I don’t regret going. Kava is that good, though I tend to overindulge and just bliss out in horizontal position for a couple hours. Really, when you’re like me and your deadly sin is Sloth, you gotta be careful with what you do with yourself. Still I found the energy to smoke my pipe and read a damn good manga. Solanin by Inio Asano. I guess it’s rather immature of me to still be moved by stories of twenty-somethings trying to carve a space out for themselves in the world, being as I’m now past my 20s.

Fuck it, I say. I finally have the courage to do what I want, and succeed or fail by my own terms and not anyone else’s. What should I care what any damn fool thinks in my life, much less anonymous fools on the net? To quote Lewis “Part of being grown-up is putting away the desire to be seen as grown-up.”

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