Extra time
My Moms just sent me this article about a man who had a cardiac arrest out of hospital and survived.
I cried while I read it, I think because I am struggling to find the new purpose that the guy found. I’m not living like every moment is important.
I try to make my life more like how I want it to be. I do something really cool, or have a great time, but I can’t maintain it. I want to have a relationship with someone in London, but I can’t find anyone. I want to write more songs, but they come out of me so slowly. I want to hack on a personal project for a living, but I can’t find users for the things I build. I look for a third place, but can’t find it. I want to play gigs, but can’t find people who will put me on.
On 14th February, two days after my 28th birthday, I wrote this post:
The good: I’ve got a solo music project that is pretty good; I’m spending a lot of time with my family; I’ve got several art projects on the go; I’m reading a lot; I live in London; I’m going to lots of gigs; I’m heavily involved with the tech scene.
The bad: I’m not playing enough gigs; I wish I was in some more bands; I’m not in the US; I haven’t got a girlfriend or a boyfriend or both; I’m not doing any politics; I’m not playing squash; my job is not what I love.
I am trying to sort out the job thing at the moment. I am trying to sort out the squash thing, too. I have a girlfriend, but our relationship makes me sad as much as it makes me happy. [Full disclosure: I think the only relationships I'm into are the ones that make me sad.]
Some people are happy, man. It fucking blows my mind.