Half-asleep

Years of radio silence compel me to speak in ways both familiar and far away. Each time I go on these extended writing fasts, the mantra echoes back: "You don't have to. Not anymore." Regardless of where I am or what I seem (in the truly perceptive sense) to be doing, it always comes down to those little patches of comfort that line the proverbial trenches of daily living. I thought I was safe where I was but the statement about "not having to" couldn't be more false.

The mantra was a lie that I always wanted to believe in. That is of course, until such time that the truth behind IDWTMYA became self-evident. Those safe spaces only exist here, in writing. It's a sad irony having to see that the only thing rooting me to my sense of reality is a volume of past regrets and projective fiction. Only half-conscious of their implications, I'd say (and consequently reaffirm) that the two things keeping me afloat are these acts of remembering, and the aspirations that follow them.

The truth? I couldn't stop writing to save my life.

To illustrate where I am in the texts of life, a friend in esoteric circles once read my cards out in response to the question, "Will I ever find ancient knowledge?". "Well...", he said. "You will find whatever it is you're looking for. What you aspire for, you will attain but in turn you will also encounter great misery because of the choices you make along the way." Getting into specifics, the cards spoke of the bearing and greatness of aspiration, drive, and the pains one must bear in order to attain them. These are narratives that are by no means unique to my plight but what I would deem specific here would be the symbols one may draw from each card in the Tarot. There is a certain number of possible permutations for the Tarot, but each hand you draw is yours. They are literally in your hands. Being a spiritually inclined atheist, I found his next statement particularly resonant:

"The cards aren't here to tell you which numbers show up in tomorrow's lottery. We simply need symbols to help us flesh out where we are and what we're doing in life. If you don't like what the cards say, don't pass the blame. You drew them."

Life trajectories are symbolic, and in this particular construct, we plot the course of value and valuation along our relative perception of time. Linear or otherwise. When I was 20, I sought to become a person who both generated and traded in terms of value. There were three things I wanted at that point in time: First was to be in a healthy, loving relationship with a person who I believe embodies the best and most beautiful parts of human endeavor, flaws and all. Second was to continue creating art with tools that seek to inspire. The third and last in that list was to be able to study in a school with virtues I could stand by and believe in.

Two years later, I'm in a loving relationship with someone I never thought existed and I'm playing a Fender Jazzmaster in an indie rock band while doing electronic music on the side for a popular independent label. That's two things off that list of things to do in my early twenties. Two out of three. Somewhere along the way to that third and last thing, life went awry. Things were quiet for a while, but only at the expense of what kept me up and running for years. I took writing for granted, and as a result I took life for granted. Apart from the huge boost in my family's economic standing, I'd say I had a lot going for me. At least for the things I wanted. Those were the cards. My decisions however have not been for the best as of late and probably won't be for quite a while. These cards, my hands.

I fell into a slump somewhere in the middle of my time with City Hall. Either way, as laid back as things were there (or as laid back as I was while I was there), I still got some things done. I regret having left on an abrupt note under circumstances that did not allow for closure on both my part and that of the people I worked with. It was unfair for me to leave them. Having left City Hall towards the end of my contract, the promise of better opportunities in the corporate world led me to question my motives for pursuing the life I wanted. Here I was, a month or so short of a full year working, jumping ship at the slightest hint of being where I want to be in life. That's how the press release went, at least. Unmotivated and uninspired, I was critically underperforming within the first three months of being an associate for a real estate firm. I had an attitude, my boss said. I didn't care much for what he said, admittedly. At that point, I took a sharp turn downward; finding myself sifting through gear classifieds or humor pages on the internet. Looking far and wide for something to compel me to work. Wealth and status within the corporation didn't do it for me. I wanted to be elsewhere, and the longer I stayed, the more I sought for an environment of open discourse. I didn't want to move up the corporate ladder. I wanted to transcend humanity; to live in a world of ideas and ideals. Something to benefit the greater human race. I saw that in social research.

That said, I found solace in the idea of enrolling in graduate school. I was poor from refusing to ask my parents for money, but I'd gladly pay for that extra tank of gas just to get to where my heart took me. I was in a bad place financially and emotionally but I was willing to take a chance on the prospect of learning to read and write again. Soon after school started, the company decided it was in everyone's best interest to let me go. Broke, unable to claim back pay for a month, and with dismal marks in my new favorite subject, the transition to academic life was and still is long and painful.

Looking back at the things I did when I was younger, I put shows together with scraps from my allowance. I pressed and sold my band's records, helped out at every single hardcore show and community initiative from 2007 to 2010 apart from little musical projects I did from time to time. Hell, I even got to tour with my band at that time. THRICE.

That dialogical spirit got lost somewhere. It took my aspirations with it. If anything, I had only hoped to find it here and with this long-winded return, it seems that I've come to the right place. I'm in a really bad patch of land where I am now, but not for long. IDWTMYA was always about my relationship with myself and the rest of the world. As with all relationships, communication keeps things together. To be able to communicate with myself after all this time, I hope to make this work. I'll be seeking professional help along the way as well. So in hopes of preempting further discontent, I'm setting up all my contingency plans.

This has happened before. Not this bad, but I'll only come back stronger. Take this as a reminder. Never lose touch. If my offset up there isn't enough of a dead ringer for my sentiments, to quote Adam Franklin, "never lose that feeling."