I’m out here, somewhere - 20.11.24

A moment of signal. A thread of data that I can attach a small gift to, & release it to find you. I’ve been so close to the sky these days. The Moon exists only to watch me while I sleep, to keep me safe from the complete darkness of my room. I left a little lamp on, but you can’t trust those flames fully. Unfortunately, the moonlight is cold, the air is cold, the frost is only a meter from my pillow, & it’s threatening to freeze me to the floor. What hope have we? It’s burning in those little flames, the candles, the lanterns, the Sun (when it bothers to come back for me)… all of these things keep the frost away.

Music has been the one thing I can rely on myself to accomplish these days. The artists dilemma is to, or not. Right now, the way my mind is, that’s less of a decision than I expected. More of a coin flip. Still though, the reliability of great art to pull me up & puppet me happy is what I’ve been celebrating. New Arcane, & new Linkin Park. These have been driving me to the piano, the guitar, the laptop, the pen, the paper, the chopping board, the front door, the wardrobe… not in that order of course.

Living above the world is a strange thing to get used to, but it has to be loved. So much of life is out of our control. Our conditions, our habits, our thoughts even. Control is never fully exercised. Living feels like a series of suggestions that my body & mind merely consider. What I do see is a pattern of craving what’s not here… & that human super power is context. We can see, think, & feel meta patterns & thoughts. It’s what allows these metaphors to tap into you, to express what my life is right now. With this super power, I’ll choose to love where I am, & find the romance in it. That’s what I’m doing now. Decorating my room, myself, my mind…

It’s always after a series of writings that I begin to understand myself. All of these songs in space. All of these songs speaking to others far away. All of these songs about death. I’m processing Trish’s death still, slowly & in my own way. I still haven’t gone to see her grave yet. I’m processing the death of my idyllic little life pre-BIMM. Living at home as an adult is a humbling & ego-crippiling experience. I’m physically further away from my life in the city… & my loved ones have all moved away.

This city has taken all the love I found in it.

So I’m out here in space, floating. There’s only so much steering you can do without a strong gust of wind. There are stars out there though. They have people, & places orbiting them. They have a life for me. They are in my sights, but that’s one of our fundamental tragedies. Our eyes will forever reach further than our hands. But still we reach… I’m still reaching.

I’m out here reaching. That’s what all of this art is… & I think that’s what music means to me.

N