#whitepeopleproblems

My heart is suddenly heavy from the amazing people we’ve lost in the past few years, from the deeply personal to those I only sort of knew and even those I’ve never met.

I’m trying to figure out why I never really chased my dreams, and I’m trying to believe that it’s “never too late” and I’m trying to FEEL like I haven’t wasted my life the same way that I KNOW I haven’t. I’m trying to figure out why I’m so fucking SCARED to connect with people anymore, and I’m trying to force myself into some romanticized idea that I don’t want to get close to people because I don’t want to leave them feeling like this when I die.

It’s all very selfish, thinking this way…it’s a true narcissism I can certainly cop to. And in all my communicative ways, I’m still relegated to having this conversation through my keyboard AT and not WITH a blanket of people who’ll likely never respond or just offer me sweet but only marginally useful words of solidarity.

If you’ve known me for a lot of years, you know that I can go up and down pretty hard…mortality has always consumed me, and the fear I have right now of who-the-fuck-knows-what is just oppressive. I didn’t eat until 10pm yesterday. Nobody EVER comes over to visit me, and I’m not entirely sure I would have any idea how to entertain company if they did. I’d probably just talk about people dying, and everyone would go home because they’re scared too. When I’m pushing hard trying to succeed at music, I find socialization easy, but at this point, it’s hard to even get excited about that for more than a few minutes at a time. I’m in a constant state of “FUCK WILL SOMETHING INTERESTING PLEASE HAPPEN” and I’m filling that void with science fiction, letting my imagination run wild.