It's April 16th and I haven't done shit for April. Editing the novel is still on the schedule but so far it's not progressed much.
There was a storm earlier, just as the day was getting dark.
The wind blew, the kitchen door banged and the windows shook.
I watched Amanda Palmer's show at City Winery on my phone without any lights on. At one point the tap tap tap of raindrops got loud enough that I couldn't really hear the music.
No one's home and I cupped my hands over the back of my phone for some reverb. (Recently I'd randomly get ear pain so I've been trying to live without headphone. It's so hard.)
The storm abated shortly and I opened the window a little.
The wind blew on my face, warm and humid, filled with the smell of dust and earth.
Not too faraway, clouds still covered the city, dark purple in the setting sun.
Over my head the moon is already out, bright and clear in the dusk light.
For the first time in weeks, I felt part of the world. I felt Real. I felt all my senses alive again, feeling, tasting, seeing, listening, sensing...
At that moment why I have been sad.
I am a person that needs a lot of time with myself.
But I've hardly been getting any recently.
Even when I do get some quiet time I'm always buzzing with plan. Make music, read, write, things to do. Little time. Must make use of all of them.
I thought anxiety was the only thing I was dealing with.
But I forgot to listen to my soul when every night I'd sit in bed, unable to be relaxed enough sleep, biding the time until it's small hours, then under the pressure of work the next morning turn on rock music loud to coax myself to get some rest.
It's always fun when anxiety and depression decide to hang out together. And while anxiety is loud and demands attention, depression is one sneakily little shit.
What's the point of this post? I don't know. It feels nice to just blog here. Just a moment I want to share. I moment I want to record.