021
you’re sitting there, staring at the static on the ceiling, listening, or perhaps sitting in a particularly faggy album, waiting patiently, like a well behaved little mutt, for nothing. yesterday, you spent the evening writing - the first half in maybe ten minutes of your time, and then an hour agonising over every other word you still aren’t really satisfied with.
today, it feels like the words are burning inside you, like they’re the only thing keeping your wretched existence going. you suspect that if you ever did manage to create something you were truly proud of, you’d probably evaporate, your Purpose fulfilled.
and then you stumble, as you always do, and you drop your phone, and it falls clean into the storm drain, and your work is gone forever and you sit down on the curb in the rain and cry until the director yells cut and the scene fades to black.
except you’ve just listened to some really good music - songs that you knew before, but had never quite got to you the way they are now - and you had a couple of conversations today that made you feel a little less alone - and maybe that’s enough.
so instead, you don’t drop your phone down the fucking storm drain, and you don’t break down sobbing, and you keep going. you don’t quite pick yourself up yet, you aren’t that ambitious, but if you don’t let yourself feel your small victories you’re just being a bitch, and nobody likes that.
the lich & god knows i could tear us apart, both by saoirse dream
you’ve always thought of yourself as someone who can compartmentalise well. you might have problems with your work or home or mental or physical or creative health or a thousand other things, and they might hurt you in those areas, but it’s always just in those areas, right?
you’ve spent more and more of your time recently wholly dysfunctional.
and i think it’s important to acknowledge and recognise that, but you did just get to a really good part of this album. maybe in this moment, that can be enough.
look down at the page, idiot. put your phone down and listen for a second. think about what you talked about, think about the friends you have. keep writing, as long as you want to.