Okay, so things are still a bit dicey. As it turns out, a readjustment to life is not so much a jump head first into the pool but a tiptoe to embrace the chilly crawl. I think I have flown too close to the sun, yet again, when will I learn. Today began with a slog, a shamble to the shower and a walk down to the old coffee place I used to work at. The humidity beats down on me, gavel of a judge. The sun feels nice, though.

One of the worst things about, well, whatever is going on in my head, is that come next week, I am going to regret all the free time I had that I squandered because I felt bad for myself. I read in a book, Art Psychotherapy by Harriet Wadeson, that art is a solitary experience. What a profoundly sad notion. The same way I didn’t choose my sexuality or gender identity, I simply cannot choose to stop creating. Every wayward thought flowers into possibility. In the same chapter, she describes how she drew before she could speak, informing us that we think in images. My muse is all around me, my mind a canvas, and my life a palindrome of flat circles.

It was in this moment that I wrote a poem for the first time in a long while. I usually come back to my Scrivener app whenever I have an emotional epiphany and usually I can signal a source of inspiration. I think the last time I wrote, I simply was just hungry for a place to throw how I was feeling. Listening to Rafiq Batia’s newest release, I spent thirty minutes writing something I called Annihilation.

Writing is not so much a tool for me as it is potentially a mechanism of reaction, less like a screwdriver and more so a synapse. The same way our brain fires signals in many directions to pilot our bodies, writing becomes homeostatic.

With that out of the way, I do have to gush about being able to go to a couple of concerts coming up here. On Wednesday here in Omaha, They Might Be Giants is coming. My dad raised me on his own tastes in music. Among the greats were Oppenheimer, Dawes, Yaesayer, Talking Heads, New Order, so on and so forth. He has an eclectic taste, one I definitely inherited. Last week, we saw Ok Go perform at the Admiral in Omaha, NE. I’ve seen TMBG perform a couple of times now, my favorite show being their entire album of Flood.

Then, on Monday, the first official day of my returning job of Residential Rehabilitation, I am going to see Nation of Language. I’ve only listened to a handful of their music but their sound has the same quality and feel as another one of my favorite musical groups Drab Majesty. Needless to say I am excited for a concert experience.

That is all for today, I will indeed try to post on Sunday.

Take care, I love you.