Wednesday, November 4, 2009

untitled

From time to time, I run into an old friend of mine who we'll call B. (I've decided to truncate the names of the people I write about; I'll get to that later.) B is maybe the fifth or sixth smartest person I know, and probably around second on the list of most squandered potential.

The last time I saw him, I was staying in his spare bedroom for a night while traveling from the south of Taiwan up to Taipei. He's teaching English to some high-schoolers there. B graduated from my alma mater half a decade ago, major in Biology and minor in music. He was running a record label for awhile, back where I grew up, but something went south with some of his artists and maybe a girl of his. I don't really know. As far as I can tell, every arc of my friend's life starts with a few months of blood and sweat and overcoming our doubts and just really believing, and ends with some girl leaving. I'm not sure how he ended up in Taiwan, and I don't think he is, either. I think he went there for a summer to recover from a year's worth of depression, and accidentally started up a successful tutoring business. That's just the kind of guy he is.

Anyways, I asked him about this just before I went to bed. Mainly I was asking, when are you going to stop dicking around with all this and get back to the music and the friends and the city you love? but dressed up with some softer edges and kinder words. B was an inspiration to me when I was growing up, and we're always harshest to our heroes.

"I don't know," he said. "Maybe when I find God again, or maybe a girl. It's sad, how a girl is just about the only thing that can change a guy." He thought about this for a bit. "Money is a third, " he said, "but usually not for the better."

So that's why I'm writing again, by the way, because I met a girl the other day and we agreed that we would do this. Every other day, and did we say for a month? Or until we can get back to the things we love.

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