What it's like

Wow, I sound optimistic there below. I was going places! Now I've lost the map. This feels like a Jeff Buckley song, tragic, absurdist even. Job-like, Sisyphusian? Maybe I'm overselling it.  I don't know what happened and I don't know where to start.

Seriously, what the fuck? 

Where did the time go? A year ago I moved out of my apartment, left my job and friends behind, in pursuit of adventure. It didn't work out. OK, I'll forgive myself that one. But the months since I came home long ago started to bleed together into a mass of time I can barely distinguish. There was Ecuador in there. There was NAMM. There were the Build kids, that's something. I think I remember feeling good about things. But what were those things? What were those feelings? It's all alien. 

Where is the joy? That's the question I keep coming back to. It must be in the future, because "you can't go back to somewhere that doesn't exist anymore." All the most tired clichés - they're true!

There's no distraction, not even for a moment. It's the weight on your shoulders every night you fall asleep and every morning as soon as you wake up. It's 100,000 tiny meathooks pulling you apart. It's a flint sparking in your gut that means you never want to eat (so, thanks for that). It's like in The Abyss when the bad guy in the mini-sub that slips off the ledge is crushed, imploded by ocean pressure. It's a million bad metaphors. It's an endless stream of suddenly, terribly meaningful song lyrics. It's shitty.