dear leonard

dear leonard cohen,

i love you. you know i do. but i have to say, i wish your records weren't so damn overproduced. you know how i love you best? by yourself, with an acoustic guitar and nothing else. no backup choir. no synth drums. no cheesy keyboards. the only one of your records i can generally stand to listen to all the way through is songs of love & hate because it doesn't have all that crap. god, your voice. i listen to that record with a glass of red wine or whiskey and i know truth.

you shouldn't try to mix so much flourish with your kind of truth. it's best unadorned.

well since i have your attention i can tell you that it seems unlikely that i will make it out to any of the places i am supposed to be tonight. i forgot how to interface with humans this morning. i felt compressed. i was lonely, but it seemed overwhelming to seek anyone out. i watched a movie and then spent most of the day by myself in my room, organizing and sorting and going through a couple of boxes that have not been opened since i moved in. it was soothing.

well, goodnight leonard.
keep it real.


ps. what does "everybody's talking to their pockets" mean, anyway?