The existential anxiety of not knowing where I belong, or what I believe about home or really where I’d go if I wasn’t going where ever the fuck it is I’m going… which is seemingly everywhere and no where.
Working on making a plan for the next 5 months that involves driving around America, playing music and meeting new people. I have no idea what else to do with myself and I’m still not totally sure this is what I should be doing.
But, well, I’m already doing it. Booking shows, spending hours and hours on the internet contacting complete strangers, not getting a lot of shows booked. Getting in touch with old contacts and making plans. Writing emails to the ones I hold close that say things like “I miss you too” and “I don’t know when I’ll see you next, but I’m coming to find you”
It’s already been 5 months since I left “home” and I really don’t have any idea what home actually is? A neurotic space where I can pace and wonder and worry and build my mind up to a million concerns?
At least I know I feel better, in most ways, when I’m in motion. But for some reason, I always have this strong feeling of longing. A deep loneliness that can’t be soothed or pacified. A confusion. A misplaced heart that beats irregularly.
Somethings change, somethings stay the same.
Some people will be missed and some people do the missing.
Where do we go from here?