"Good morning kid, how are ya?" says The Poet.
"I'm alright," I say. We talk for a little bit and they soon realize that "alright" means "totally melancholy." The Poet tells me I'm a rock star. The Chef prescribes listening to folk music. The Poet even brings the following CD by my room later (The Chef's orders, of course):
"Melancholy is easy to fix," he says, handing me Leonard Cohen's Greatest Hits. "Here, listen to this."
As you can imagine, listening to Leonard Cohen did not make the world much brighter. At least not at first. I had my moment with the song about trying to be free like a bird on a wire. I stared out the window into the rainy mess of the outside world and thought about how we're all just birds on wires and drunken midnights choirs. If I wasn't so determined not to be cliche and cry, I might have cried.
Then I couldn't take it anymore so I put on some David Guetta remixes and danced my way out of my momentary slump. Maybe I'll just start there next time.
Anyway, the night has gotten away from me once again so I will make this a short one. Tune in tomorrow for something extra special. ;)
Over and out.