Stuff I know: distraction.

I cannot write in the same room as Gilmore Girls, or crappy modern “country music.”

I can write in cafes, bus stops, in the presence of heavy metal, hip hop or punk. I can write surrounded by Social chaos, so long as it doesn’t touch me.

But I can’t not pay attention to sticky cutesy pseudo-witty ping pong. I can’t ignore lyrics so awful stretched over music so overproduced it would make Johnny Cash and Patsy Cline come back and start shit-kicking.

Find your real distraction. Know thy enemy.

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