Radio Static

Perhaps it’s the combination of still being kinda sick and not having slept more than four hours a day all week, but I’m feeling a little off.
And y’know “off”, for me, is more than a little off.

Heard this song on the radio on the way to work today. Yes, sometimes I still listen to the actual radio, like on the fm in the car.

A friend of mine wrote it actually, and so that’s why I stopped on the channel.

Why I stayed and listened to it the whole way through though, I don’t know. It hit me, I guess, in a way that something hasn’t in a very long time.

It was one of those secret moments where you get to be so shatteredly honest with yourself for once.

So much of my life is a response to things that other people have done or said or the repercussions of things I’ve done because of what they’ve done or said.

As much as I spend most of my life inside my own head, it’s easy to forget that all that thinking can still be the bitterness, regret, longing, hope, and fear centered around other people, events, or situations outside of my control.

To be so real though, and admit that I, personally lack a great deal of control, is a rare thing. To allow myself to go to that place, to let my heart be cracked in two and let a little bit of truth spill out, that’s a gift.

Albeit, it’s a jarring gift.

I don’t know what to do with these obscurities. They’re not focused enough to even be coherent thoughts yet.

Of course there’s an inherent dissatisfaction with my current way of living, an immense desire to create good art ever frustrated by my own inadequacies and jaded expectatins, and an ever expanding space-time gap between who I am now, who I want to be, and who I was (along with all the bitterly cold pangs of existential angst that go along with that).

Really though, even that is periphery.

There are plenty of descriptors I can give to my empty spaces and filled in places.

The drive, however, is in the questions.

For art is the question.

And there are no good answers for the good questions.

Only more questions.

But maybe that’s the point.

If there is a point.

No need, really.