three more classes till spring break and i've been wondering about myself.
apparently, i've finally committed to the alleged reality of my situation.
don't get me wrong--it still feels like it's all a big paper-mache distraction, a dance among facades, but it has completely consumed me and drastically changed the routine.
as an expresser, it has me concerned--i'm not writing or creating intangibles like i used to.
all my life, i've experienced moments that forced me to stop what i was doing so that i could go write, go tell my message, usually wrapped in music. these urges seem to come less often. perhaps my thought process has changed; it seems i was always able to rend a poetic(if not merely romanticized) viewpoint from the most mundane of situations. perhaps i've tapped these situations dry of inspiration and it's time to find new things from which to learn. this would make sense--the more i commit to finishing the task at hand, the sooner i can get far away from here, change the cards, change the game. in the meantime, my eyes seem to refuse to look deeper, instead focusing and accepting all at surface level.
seeing nothing new, i don't feel i have much to say about it, ergo i don't write.
half is worried that if i have a gift, i'll lose it.
half doesn't worry--it thinks it recognizes this as just a phase.
annabel-in-boston questioned our friendship status because i haven't corresponded. i felt bad that i'd neglected not just one of my friends, but when i reached to write, all my pens had dried up. it took me all day to write a letter that didn't really say much, mostly explaining why i've not written and to bear with me.
my toenails have been bare for most of the year. Lupe doesn't dislike the painted toenails, but she mentioned that they'd probably be more healthy if i let them breathe for a week or so...in the last 12 years or so, they've not been completely without adornment for more that a matter of hours.
i go in the studio and play, but i'm not growing any closer to finishing this album that i've been working on for 4 years. all my other albums took a year or less.
it almost feels sinful, putting all the forever things on hold so that i can focus on the fleeting now things.
still, i feel like all is well, better than it was, actually, and everything is in it's right place.
maybe it was i that strayed from the nothing changes.
apparently, i've finally committed to the alleged reality of my situation.
don't get me wrong--it still feels like it's all a big paper-mache distraction, a dance among facades, but it has completely consumed me and drastically changed the routine.
as an expresser, it has me concerned--i'm not writing or creating intangibles like i used to.
all my life, i've experienced moments that forced me to stop what i was doing so that i could go write, go tell my message, usually wrapped in music. these urges seem to come less often. perhaps my thought process has changed; it seems i was always able to rend a poetic(if not merely romanticized) viewpoint from the most mundane of situations. perhaps i've tapped these situations dry of inspiration and it's time to find new things from which to learn. this would make sense--the more i commit to finishing the task at hand, the sooner i can get far away from here, change the cards, change the game. in the meantime, my eyes seem to refuse to look deeper, instead focusing and accepting all at surface level.
seeing nothing new, i don't feel i have much to say about it, ergo i don't write.
half is worried that if i have a gift, i'll lose it.
half doesn't worry--it thinks it recognizes this as just a phase.
annabel-in-boston questioned our friendship status because i haven't corresponded. i felt bad that i'd neglected not just one of my friends, but when i reached to write, all my pens had dried up. it took me all day to write a letter that didn't really say much, mostly explaining why i've not written and to bear with me.
my toenails have been bare for most of the year. Lupe doesn't dislike the painted toenails, but she mentioned that they'd probably be more healthy if i let them breathe for a week or so...in the last 12 years or so, they've not been completely without adornment for more that a matter of hours.
i go in the studio and play, but i'm not growing any closer to finishing this album that i've been working on for 4 years. all my other albums took a year or less.
it almost feels sinful, putting all the forever things on hold so that i can focus on the fleeting now things.
still, i feel like all is well, better than it was, actually, and everything is in it's right place.
maybe it was i that strayed from the nothing changes.