You give me yours, I'll give you mine.

The night before I leave.

I scrubbed the grout in the restroom with an old toothbrush. I started with vinegar and realized I would have to brave the bleach if I was going to move from grey-ish pink to beige. Not enough. I really do try to start moderate with everything and move up or down in intensity has far as I have control.

Do you have control?

I watched this short documentary about Henry Rollins. He gets so much done, so much to help other people and make them feel stronger. "Sleep when you are dead", and I really think that is how it should be. I am petrified of settling, of being mediocre.

I listened to a John Vanderslice interview and he said that print ads are dead as far as advertising in music. Music blogs are the wave of the future, the trusted immediate outlet for those who really want to experience things. "Selling out" means more time to get things done that you love, and in this respect I can't see why one wouldn't want to if they were serious. Hire a manager and you have more time to write, to sing, to do what you are good at.

I know this all sounds so basic.

Peter told me work hard. Just keep working and working on what you love and something has to happen. I think about this while I am loading my paint cans into my truck, placing pastels and charcoal on top of the makeshift shelving I have set up in the cab. Someone will notice and your fight becomes a bigger fight and that breeds truth.

I try to convince myself that love is a time-waster, a distraction for people who think they know the feeling because they won't stick to something truly deserving of their passion. I have made so many arguements with myself. But really, I'm just a tinge envious. I see Kim and Doug, but they are super humans, sincere and dedicated and wholly aware of hardship in their reality, not "love" in the idealized minstrel sense that most people seem to gravitate towards if they aren't adoring chaos. More arguements: I value independence too much to meld together with someone. How lovely to be so easily settled and seemingly satisfied.

I very badly want to open my heart and above all else I hope that this project might crack it open a bit.

It's a lot to ask.

I have lived here for seven years, the longest I've stayed anywhere, and it still does not feel like home. The next thirteen weeks are no question, but the idea of sincere comfort and safeness scares me too. I don't want to ever not be in motion. I can't learn anything knowing that I'm just ok.

Find someone to trust. Or don't, if it propels you to where you need to go.

1 comment:

Christina said...

Ditto. Through and through.