REBOOT

"You are fearful now of losing your mind, as I once feared myself. Let me say, however, that to relinquish your self carries no shame,"

A quote from a misguided old Colonel in Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World by Haruki Murakami. I sigh and put down the book, laying back in bed (yes, I'm still in bed.) I planned on doing laundry, but I have to put a hold on it for a moment. I played half an hour of Borderlands and then got distracted and turned it off. Now I'm turning to the BLAG-O-SPHERE-O-TUBES to try and sort out my dome. More appropriately, I'm turning to my quaint little corner of interwebs to sort out muh face-noggin.
Yesterday, I had lunch with my friend, Charlie to try and figure out how to remain sane as an artist. This is a pretty pressing concern for me, as returning from the most tumultuous and incredible three years of my life--to--this, being home, hit me in the weirdest of ways. I actually recall saying "Yeah no, it's weird--but I really think Nebraska is going to help." It has recently come to my attention that...er...no, no it certainly hasn't. I sort of expected the tour to be the energizing supplement to my concerns--but no dice.

The isolation is the worst part.

Namely--no longer feeling like I'm part of my old community. Now, that's natural of course. It's just a pain in the ass. A major pain in the ass. I'm sitting here in my brother's old room with the door closed and nothing on the walls--wanting desperately to be connected again. It's hard, of course, to keep in mind that one's significance never changes (something Charlie mentioned yesterday) only one's circumstances.

Fuck, man...I've always been like this. Even in great times, it's like, "Aww man...SOMETHING has to suck."

And that's the icing on this big stupid cake. I know it's just a rusty old defense mechanism, still whirring there in the corner generally unnoticed because its been there for so long. It stays out of trouble and avoids the massive overhaul that it needs. Even now, looking over my old LIVEJOURNAL account--there are the throes of this discontent. Like--shit, man. I'm not even tormented by anything. Just a FEELING. Y'know? An INTUITION. Those people are really interesting in stories because like...they'll start wailing for no reason and then the main bad guy will show up...and you'll be like, "OH SNAP, FO REALS!? CRAZY DUDE WAS ON TOP OF HIS SHIT!" But constantly having a 'bed feeling about this' aids absolutely zero people.

But y'know...I don't really think it's a negative thing.

Energy is energy, and because of that--it can be channeled any way you like. I'm pretty sure the feeling that "Something's not right" is the same thing that makes me act, draw, write, and make music (well...make other peoples' music...poorly.. :D)

So what this calls for, perhaps--is simply a reboot. A rewiring of synapses and mental paths. ELECTRO-SHOCK THERAPY TIME! No no, but for reals--it's all the same STUFF at the center of us, yeah? Right? Okay, we're agreed. It's time to believe in that STUFF again and let it come out.

Love love love,
Dakotah

Also--the third dude in this video is the Andres clone that DIDN'T get into the MFA.