Now that I am fairly confident that I have rid the house of the plague that has been haunting it for a few weeks, I can write for longer than 30 seconds without a fever-stricken child plopped in my lap for what I can only assume are restorative health treatments via hug power, or, you know, the fact that I am a furnace and it keeps them warm when they get the chills when the fevers break.
I am listening to the Blood Bath Remix song from the first Blade movie. Hard, techno, massively repetitive and a perfect backdrop for me to pound out a few hundred words here and there. Why do I want to write you didn’t ask and yet I answer? I have been in a place where nothing has wanted to come out for weeks now and I am getting a change at the moment to empty some of the aggressively painful creative things out of my mind and onto here. Will I finish anything I start today? No, today is like letting water out of the heater before it shoots up through three floors through to your roof and kills everyone. Today is opening the causeways and letting what comes out, come out. Today is absolutely and completely about getting the Dark into the Light.
I have been in this wretched place for so long now. It is a cyclical thing too. I will have a migraine, then this deep depression, then I will suddenly feel incredible in mind and body and then it repeats. Now, I am not a doctor, nor do I play one on TV, but that tells me something. What the fuck it tells me is completely and totally alien and unknown, but patterns are patterns for a reason, right? Randomness happening over and over again, well, that there is a pattern if I recall the definition of the word.
So when I woke up this morning and the pattern seemed to have changed or failed completely, it was a weird rush of relief and a shock of fear all at once. Where was this normalcy, even if that normalcy was dread? Where wast his pattern that I had apparently settled into like an old and loved blankie?
I think, and think is a dangerous word here, that I have broken the aforementioned cycle not out of some strong character trait or willpower, no. I think I have switched it because I am bored. I am bored and I want to write and see my friends and laugh and sing my songs to my children without it coming out in a damn monotone.
Hear me out.
When I write, even this thing here, I am literally writing words that I can see in my mind’s eye. I did not know this was not a thing that everyone did. I assumed when people write things they do the thinking part and when they have it it is like just copying it word for word from this player piano style roller that rotates slowly in their mind so they can get every word out just the way it should be. Typos and all. It is just copying it.
I haven’t had that in forever. I had just been dealing with my airplanes in the air and the stresses of sick kids. I was bored because there are only so many times you can watch a speedrun of Super Mario Brothers 3 and not think it is idiotic that he doesn’t take the mushroom house to get the hammer suit you know is in there. That might have been a bit much. Let me back up.
I LOVE routine, but not mundane. I love the structure of things, but not the constancy of the same. Follow? So when I saw it was the EXACT same thing every day, it must have twisted a cog or something because this morning I woke up with my piano scroll all ready to go and the words you see here laid out in a nice monospaced font.
Let’s put it in a super, duper easy way for me to say it.
I was not good, now I am good.
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