With no more to say

Got out of the habit of writing regularly. And out of the habit of regular gym. But back in the habit of reading during lunch. And listening to MF Doom, Mos Def, Dilated Peoples, Raekwon, and the rest of this crew. Back into the habit of watching interesting movies. Mulholland drive was good enough. An Andalusian Dog was just a short preparation for Freaks next week. My life feels so unstable right now that I can barely cope with going to work and coming home.

Listening to Aretha Franklin and Nina Simone on the way there, trying to forget with Mos Def and Murs on the way back. The night falls early and it feels like there is never enough time to explain or understand. I am young and naive but by this point I am also afraid enough of the pain that I am holding back as much as I possibly can. I feel a strong responsibility to myself over anything else – to make sure that I am ok and that sleep comes easy and that I am fine at work the next day. As the days go by, my feeling don’t waver but my rational justifications get weaker until they become a ridiculous puff of an illusion I try to maintain for myself for the sake of remaining young.

I remember days when everything seemed easier. When quitting was easier. When the path was clear and right before my eyes. Somehow I didn’t feel the complexity; I just knew what was right, what was the more aesthetically beautiful thing to do. To commit. To devour. To fight. To love. To burn. To be there.

It’s a bit scary when you catch yourself right in the moment when you’re changing. After this year, I won’t be the same again.

Music as of late: CJ Noks – No More To Say

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