Today has been one of those days where music has been a better partner for understanding and describing the situation than any other form of expression. I've in recent days started losing the ability to, or rather the need to, converse with people on a daily basis. My tongue doesn't lap about. I find there is very little I wish to say. And when I do speak I only mention small things, never enough to encourage a full conversation.
But what I'm left with has been my thoughts. Always my thoughts return to my thoughts about my thoughts when all else has failed. This has always been a dangerous situation for me. Once I reach that point, where my mind becomes consciously aware of itself sleep becomes rare, actual thoughts of other things scarce and I turn into a depressive, introverted, ghostly form of myself.
Often I have to find things for me to focus on. Stare the fuckers down; whether it be confrontation, obsession, passion or a mix and combination of all three. I need both function and a sense of falling apart. A striving forward with a weight at the back pulling me, not back, but to the right or the left, or even up for that matter.
I find my shortcomings rather more an annoyance than anything else. Apparently I've got talents, but talents don't need me to carry them. I've got an obsession with adding to myself as many attributes, tastes and essences as possible. I want to learn Japanese, German, Mandarin, Russian, Spanish, and yes, perhaps even French despite past problems with that language. I want to read libraries worth of books, but excellently written books, each written with care, pride and grace. I've noticed I love writing things in threes and twos. Care, pride and grace. This is something I should look into, might be a stylistic manner I've picked up somewhere, but where?
I haven't written much here, but I have written something. Words fail me tonight. Do yourself a favour, have a pint of Guinness and listen to some Rolling Stones. I sure enjoyed it.
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