I’ve taken years away from myself. The person I always wanted to be is somewhere within, but he’s harder to locate now. And without him I feel the struggle pushing deeper. This photo above is simple. It represents a good memory in that it is a photograph I took of a moment of happiness, but, it also represents something else: a natural scene of life; sun shining, cool breeze, what I perceive as the impression of freedom.

Five days a week I am eaten up by the insatiable need to create–to create music and to write the stories swirling around my head. Something within is asking more of me while I bear the weight of the “normal” expected life. Simply: I work a menial 9-5 (7-4, actually) that brings me no joy, fulfills me in no way, and crushes me at my instincts. It takes the first day off to refill my dreams and the second day to really feel the weight on my chest of becoming something more. Today is that day. Today I created a simple blog so I could feel my words being sent into the world. These words can be accessed in the furthest point on Earth from where I am. They can be accessed by my neighbours, and they can be accessed by the city I fantasize of inhabiting. Los Angeles. Yes, there it is. I’m one of those. Why? Probably the fallacy of eternal sunshine, hopes and dreams, community of artists, and the ideal of that photo above. The impression of freedom. To wake up, feel myself, traverse through the day as the person I told myself I would be. Then, watch the sun fall, knowing it won’t take a full week to rise again.

My fixations, my fantasies, my ideals, my dreams, they weigh me down and they make me feel infinite. But I know the passage of time makes dreams narrower–makes them a thing of the past. And for me, time slips week by week. Slowly, admittedly, but in a sort of slow-burn feeling like a melting of the spirit. The crux of it is that I am shallow and I am afraid.

But, 13 years ago I made two decisions on the a single day that changed who I saw myself as, so today I will change two things again with the hopes of re-creating the magic I felt then (and still carry). Then, I stopped eating meat and I picked up a passion for music. That’s who I was to be: the vegetarian musician (for me it was drums and guitar, which has since progressed to anything that will make noise). The passion for both decisions changed my life. It was independence and it was a soul separate from the one given to me through inheritance. So today, the day before my work-week restarts (with two new bosses starting tomorrow too), I’m deciding that the way I see myself needs a change once again. For one, I’m going full vegan. This is overdue. And it is something I think I was too lazy to do in the past. And two, I’m going to write. I’m going to write like I always said I would. The way I’ve been saying I would since 2016. I’ll start here, today. There are no parameters for this place: critical analyses, personal essays, thoughts, consumptions, even some passing poetry. But I’m also going to write in my absurd collection of notebooks. I’m going to write in the margins. I’m going to collect endnotes and footnotes. I’m going to write those stories that swirl in my head.

How do I escape this place I’ve stuck myself? I write my way out of it. With the intention of creating something meaningful and the intention of eventually being asked to write for or by someone else. Right now though, I’m writing for me.