I breathe, I live.
English is my third language.
Going to a party, right now. Maybe I’ll see my co-worker there. I’m not sure what to say to her if I do. Do you hate your job yet, girl? Do you know? How do you feel?
But that’s not why I’m going there. I’m going there to have a good time and find out what has happened to music lately. To participate in this celebration. I want to be all there. I have to be all present.
Much love to you, always.
Love expels all my demons.
I don’t know what I’m doing! Did I say that? I make no sense. Not all the time. I guess it’s training. I’m sorry. I’ll probably make even less sense tomorrow. If I could just fall asleep again.
Maybe I’m looking for my old friends in the wrong places. If I am, I’m sorry. No one is exactly the same. Well that’s why I’m writing, to figure things out. Not just to mess with people’s heads. If they wouldn’t want to be messed with, they wouldn’t be here anyway. This was just a space of absolute nothing floating around on the internet. I really feel like saying, there’s nothing to see here. I’m probably just going to write a bunch of crap that’s going to make you feel weird or worse. Depending on who you are. I really don’t think I’m at fault here though. If you’re into weird, please, stay around, grab a chair, but don’t blame me. Like, you don’t have to care at all.
If J was here, if it was just me and her, we would talk about all our thoughts, memories and problems. We would drink tea, she loves tea. Maybe cook something. We would talk about art and crafts, travelling, music, our losses and probably her family. Maybe we’d plan a trip or a meet up. Maybe we’d go take a walk at night.
If it was her and other friends, we’d probably have someone play guitar, maybe drums. We’d play music, we’d probably go outside and play this game. Do some acrobatics. Maybe drive to a party. It’s what we used to do. Well, not in all detail by far, but anyway…let’s not get into that right now. People do the same all over the world. They either do or they don’t.
I really don’t know why I’m writing this down, and maybe I shouldn’t.
I really have to focus on other things for a while. They want to sell this small place and I have to try to find out if I can buy it at all.
I’m not going anywhere. It’s you and me, wall.
I hear him talking. About yachts, attic apartments, houses, houses in India. It would sound to some people like heaven, but for me it is pure hell. He won’t let me go. He promises me everything and he says that he loves me. I know this is Karma. I did this to myself for sure. To what degree I don’t know.
But this is why I can’t stop now. I can’t go back to this nightmare paved with money and everything I’m supposed to dream of. It’s not beautiful, it’s really not. I have to do what makes me feel alive, not dead inside.
I don’t know why it’s pure hell. This is why I’m saying almost everything I’ve been told is the other way around. I’ve been told this should make me happy. It should make me feel safe, but it’s not. All these promises.
None of these things make me happy. I miss that piece of red string I used to wear around my wrist years ago. That’s what I should have kept. But then truth be told some technology makes me happy too. There’s no denying that.
(via mushroomvision)
No that makes sense. It does.
I never claimed I could do anything special .
I thought I could do this forever, maybe I’ll have to.
Maybe I’m going to have to throw everything at this wall.
Or this fire. Or whatever it is.
My head hurts really bad already.
I think it could become really bloody.
Question is if I can walk away from it.
I need some water.
Is this going to kill me.
Do I even know the basics.
No. I’m really exhausted.
The edge of this terrible thing disappeared into the clouds.
This is probably the worst idea I’ve ever had.
I’m going to have a 5-year old fit now and kick at this thing and fall asleep.
This might take years.
Move along now, there’s nothing to see here.
Listening to Jess Mills and Sebastian.
If you haven’t heard Jess Mills before, you’re probably going to feel an uncontrollable urge to go do it now after reading these words.
Weird huh.
Just kidding.
I also like this song by Sebastian called “Motor”. It’s basically a lot of motor noises, it’s awesome.
I’m terrified. I feel like I’m literally burning up inside. But it’s ok. It should be ok. I should be with family now. You are family….I’m supposed to ask though, but why is it so hard? Are you? You are incredibly special to me.
I need to lie down now.
Here’s my gift to you.
The garden outside the house that I called my first real home, it was wild and magical. A gardener had planted it once, but then decades of hippies had lived there and they let it grow and now all the small stone paths were overgrown. The garden stretched all the way down to the water, but there was a fence just between us and the water. One third of the way up to the house was a fire place, where we used to sit or lay down during the summer nights. I fell asleep there a couple of times. Right next to the fireplace was a tree with very long, low branches and thick foliage, so it was almost like a big cave under it. We would put a mattress in there and rest there when it was raining.
I, I hope you like it.
I…
