"Behold your Bounderby!"

It’s 10:30 on a Tuesday night and I’m sitting on the roof of my building (right next to my apartment/hut) and I keep letting lose inextricable sighs.

I have, within the confines of my recently and greatly augmented life, a fair amount of time to reflect, speculate, and hypothesize on and about my past, present and hopeful trajectory. I still feel a powerful urge towards an undefined direction that I thought moving abroad would sate. That, on top of the arrival of emotions I had previously sunk with alcohol, and the new feelings that come with living in a foreign land and by myself for the first time ever, has me feeling out of sorts. I feel the overwhelming urge to create.  But music is out of the picture and every time I sit to write, I come up with blank pages or an empty screen. What could I add to the world that would be worthwhile or of substance? What would I enjoy that I could share with others that wouldn’t be some masturbatory practice. I write this blog to share my thoughts and experiences, but I always feel it’s a bit attention starved and occasionally highlighting a false reality I want people to perceive. 

So what is there? What’s that missing puzzle piece? Is that the shared dread that haunts mankind? Is that why we cultivate egos and worship deities and hope and work and pray? Perhaps I’m trying to boil too much down to a single question that when answered, would encapsulate the world. Or at least the world pertaining to the combined thoughts of the confused, delusional, and weary. 

I have ideas about sitting and staring into nothing, in the hopes of obtaining some peace of mind through a chance glimpse of oblivion. But I never get that glimpse. I can’t even seem to conjure a steady notion of what it is that that infinite chimera might look like. If this sounds like depressive ranting, that’s not how it’s meant. I mean, I think the yoke of depression will always bear down on my shoulders in some fashion or another, I’ve always been forthright about that. But I’m not in a bad way right now. Most days are good, and I’m sleeping like people are meant to sleep and I’m meditating in increasing measure and my physical activity is back to where I like it. At insane amounts of industrious and laborious actions.  So day to day, I’m feeling like a new man. But I don’t know who the hell this new guy is, and I don’t take kindly to strangers around these parts. So I have to figure out what the hell he wants and quick. Because the quicker that happens, the quicker I can take steps in a direction I feel confident about. Everyone wants to know where it is they're going. Right?  I mean, they say it’s not the destination, it's the journey. But then they turn around and say you should never leap before you look. Well I’ll tell them that talking in platitudes is for assholes.

 I’ll just keep on searching.