For some reason I always manage to hit a patch of time I’m going to call a ‘stagnation of the soul’ where time slows down and you start to see things inward. We all go through it and we all recover from it differently. We introspect and sometimes return empty with a sense of failure and desperate desire to turn the clock back. Inspiration begins to wane, frivolous obsessions become the norm and you begin to despise the ugly face of routine. You realise that your pathetic attempts at a renewal are beating you and suddenly positivity which used to engulf you with such ease becomes so rare and laboured. Your mind starts to give up, the qualities you once prided yourself for desert you and then you stop. Cease to exist as you did before. And then the restlessness begins, you start becoming brash, resist change and abuse sympathy. Corrosion sets in, the bike rides don’t feel the same, the movies don’t feel the same and most terribly waking up becomes a pain.
You start reading all that you have written. The stuff that gave you so many nights of ingenuity and intrigued you beyond anything before. You emerge from this examination, soulless and with very few answers and it dawns on you, what has been your gift, has just always been your poison. Enveloping yourself in your own thoughts independent of what the world believes and forces you to believe, you render yourself absorbed and disillusioned. Who cares you ask. We care they say. Fuck off you retort. The answer lies right here, in between these million words begging for attention. Close this outlet to open another. This space was created as an outlet to a similar stagnation. Destroy it, build from the start or let someone else take care of that. When your nights begin to be invaded by a cocktail of thoughts ranging from a brainwashed mass of people in a country far away to thoughts of a tidy disappearance, you know you have crossed into that unfamiliar territory of despair and acute confusion. That’s when you got to put up your hands and surrender and let go. Let go off a lot that has led you here or you feel you are leading down this path.
From a letter that never got sent to describing the wonder years of my life to a very definitive understanding of what love truly is. Taking a simple evening at a coffee shop and twisting it into a little magic and make believe to a naked man’s run for freedom – you have served me well. I bid you a fond goodbye knowing very well that all that is in here will always remind me of a mind that expressed and repressed a lot in a maze of words. Sometimes self-involved, mostly elusive my thoughts will be engraved for posterity.
Thank you and good bye my story on a board. You keep rocking my world..