You know it sucks, real­iz­ing that every­thing you believed in is com­plete bullshit.

—Some guy sit­ting on a bench in some movie

This is how I’ve been feel­ing lately. I’ve lost the plot. I’m wan­der­ing and won­der­ing. Aimless. Floating. Disconnected. Questioning what it’s all for.

It’s not that I haven’t been able to keep myself occu­pied. My cal­en­dar until March is quite busy actu­ally. But I feel like a spec­tre, float­ing through the world; ethe­real, imma­te­r­ial, intan­gi­ble, and unable to be touched or affected by anything.

On the other hand, music is hit­ting me pretty hard right now. I tend to dance a lot, mostly in my room. I actu­ally recorded myself danc­ing to see what it looks like. I can only imag­ine that it’s on the same level of embar­rass­ment as get­ting caught mas­tur­bat­ing to fur­ries (yep, there’s a porn for that) with bean dip smeared on my chest.

I’m in a No Motiv state-of-mind; that strange period between Jacky and Louise, when I was liv­ing on Island Park with Trolley, and we would go for car rides in the sum­mer to Diagram for Healing. But it’s And The Sadness Prevails that I’m redis­cov­er­ing, hear­ing the songs from a dif­fer­ent point in my life very dif­fer­ent from when I last gave the album a thor­ough listen.

When John asks me how my day was, it seems like my answer is always some­where between “shitty” and “like some­one took a giant shit on my face¹″. And when he asks what hap­pened, I can never give him a spe­cific inci­dent. It’s just this depres­sion, this sag­ging feel­ing that’s been weigh­ing so heav­ily on me, because I haven’t been able to let go as eas­ily as I’d like.

I’m try­ing to find my foot­ing in the Tao Te Ching. Verse 44 in par­tic­u­lar is speak­ing to me right now:

One’s own rep­u­ta­tion — why the fuss?
One’s own wealth — why the con­cern?
I say, what you gain is more trou­ble than what you lose
Love is the fruit of sac­ri­fice
Wealth is the fruit of gen­eros­ity
Be con­tent, rest in your own full­ness —
You will not suf­fer from loss
You’ll avoid the snare of this world
You’ll have long life and end­less blessings

The tran­si­tion continues.

1. I should post­script this with a note that I wouldn’t enjoy this [↑]