Melodramatic? Maybe a little.

TWO DAYS after Election 2016, the shock’s just starting to wear off and reality is beginning to set in. We’re looking around trying to get a sense of the world we now live in. And then LEONARD COHEN DIES.

Is this year cursed, or something? We needed him. We’re catapulted into an uncertain future, everyone is scared, our antibiotics are losing their effectiveness, climate change is nigh unstoppable, and all our artists are dying.

I sit here preparing to write a blog post, not really knowing what I can say, aware that no one’s in a mental space to be reading my ramblings anyway, and then scrolling through twitter I see “Leonard Cohen” and “#RIP”. What? No, that can’t be right, I think. No. He was meant to last years yet. I haven’t even seen him live. There must be some kind of mistake.

But no. 2016 takes no prisoners.

At this point, a zombie apocalypse would be a welcome relief. At least with a zombie apocalypse you know where you stand. These are Interesting Times, people.

The answer is Make Good Art.

But it’s hard. It’s tough to keep writing my urban fantasy bullshit, but if I don’t, I’ll fall too far behind. That’s not right. That’s not what these people would want, for their deaths to disrupt art instead of encouraging more of it. So. Back to the novel. Back to the poetry. Back to the rambling bullshit. Back to the loud cover songs and midnight scribblings and angry street art.

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