New Skine, August.

I have been off M’s for a while, in search of something more eco-friendly. But such books either don’t seem to hold up well, or they are too fancy and fragile for me to want to write in them. So what, since I haven’t been writing? Maybe it’s dissertation burn-out. But, honestly, writing was the easy part. And the fun part. I think it’s a combination of being at a weird stage and being too lazy to break the no-writing habit. I blame that for why I don’t really do what used to make me happiest these days. Then I think about what consequences of this writing-drought might be, from my constantly-evolving neuroses, destruction habits and weird obsessions, and I get mad at myself for letting writing go, save for obligatory journaling because I am crazy about remembering what I do, who with and what movies we watched.

I bought a [silly, the Mrs. said] kit last weekend that gets to you actually WRITE, which I never really do much anymore. I needed a “writer’s notebook”. So I hit Atomic Books for whatever pocket Moleskine I could find. I wanted lines, but this squared version was close enough.

And the whole thing people always say about Moleskines that I long-ago started ignoring happened. Now I like to write again, even if it’s stupid stuff I’ll never type-up, let alone let anyone see.

I whipped up some band notebooks for my buddies and I because we can never get to paper and pens when we’re in the studio jamming before we forget things, like the chorus of the song we’re working on or new music to check out. Dan already has a Moleskine, but Paulie never had one. Last Monday, he took that Cahier and Papermate and wrote all night. We even defaced the pizza boxes out of some weird Nietzschean explosion of creative energy, though I can’t really post what we did to that here.

My eco-angel is weirded out. Maybe it’ll get the best of me and have me shopping for hemp paper again one day soon. But at least the M’s have gotten me writing again — with or without my corny little kit.