Two years ago, I watched the first two episodes of the show "Atlanta", and I loved it. Then that Friday night, I went out to meet some friends at Prince, this bar in Koreatown, when in walks none other than Donald Glover. My friends and I are drinking at one end of the bar, and he's sitting with this girl a few stools down. Eventually I go up to him and tell him how much I love his new show. He's a nice guy, thanks me, and I bring up this one scene from the show and ask him if that really happened to him.
"Nah, that happened to my brother," he says.
We talk for a little while. I tell him I want to be a writer, but that I've been at it for a long time and I wonder if I should just give it up. He asks if I enjoy it, and when I say I do, he says, "just keep doing it then."
I didn't ask if I could take a picture with him because I felt like it would somehow cheapen the encounter, but who knows. It's not like it would have made a difference to him either way, right?
The reason I bring him up is because I just watched the first two episodes of "Atlanta", season two. They were so good. I gotta give the guy credit. The show even made me remember someone I haven't thought of in a long time, someone from way back, and I'd say who but it's too complicated.
I'm also reading this book called "A Little Life" by Hanya Yanagihara. A friend of mine lent it to me. It's been years since I read from an actual, physical book, but it's the best writing I've read in a long time. I'm only about a quarter in, but it's an 800 page book so I've read enough to know she's the real deal, like a modern day Charles Dickens, maybe better. I know I'll never be on her level, but I've seen plenty of lesser writers get published so I still have hope.
Anyway, that's it. That's all I got for now.
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