It is in the depths of self-induced struggles that one begins to scramble in an animalistic sort of way, a thrashing and knee-jerk reaction to the status quos that one has set for themselves. These kicks and punches are important for one simple reason. It means you haven't lost the fuel that kept you thrashing in the first place.
As of late, motivation and ambition has been lost in the white noise of financial strains and physical exhaustion. I concoct lofty plans of schooling, film-making and being a full-fledged independent writer. Then, when the day-to-day takes its toll, I am left bedraggled and weary, too tired to run on fumes. I continue on overdrive, my heart soaring to the sky with big plans. All the while, I am networking with people in a way that cannot be undone. I consistently make plans with friends only to break them and, in the meantime, book a band that I really dig to play shows here in Portland.
It's an awkward sort of balance that, if I'm not careful, can be quite the slippery slope. My intentions are never self-absorbed. I just have the tendency to be completely wish-washy. I've got to put my head where my heart is. And the only way to do that is in a full-force sort of way. I've come to the realization over the last couple of weeks that I still have the power to change the things I am unhappy about (to an extent).
I've neglected books for a long while now. In their stead, I've chosen television and music. For whatever reason, keeping the library copy of Celine's "Death On The Installment Plan" underneath my coffee table for the last five months has brought me a great deal of comfort. I've began reading it and delved into it at least five times. Once you lose the cadence of his writing, you lose the entire point of the novel. This has been my struggle since finishing "Journey To The End Of The Night" and beginning the sequel. So, underneath my table it has remained. I am going to tear into this book the first chance I get this time around.
I've got a few friends that live just down the street that I feel like I've neglected due to my cobwebby, exhausted mental state. They're moving across town in a day or two and the thought of it bums me out for a couple of reasons. One, the fact that, in hindsight, I've taken their proximity for granted. Two, said proximity won't even be a factor anymore. It's a change of circumstance that can only be dealt with by making an effort to continue to see them by taking the necessary measures to make the trek across town through the congested traffic and exit signs.
I booked my first show ever a while back. Since then, I talked with people through email and internet that I have never met in person. By circumstances alone, we are friends, comrades. New relationships have been reignited by means of live music. Without the utmost dedication, this show could be a complete bust. The show is a week and a half away. I will attempt to begin some hardcore flyering for the show tomorrow, hangover or not. I am remaining humble, however. I don't expect the show to be a huge success but, at the same time, I don't want it to be a complete bomb.
The ideals behind these motivations are honest. The ambition to follow them through a lot of the time can be quite taxing. Combining the two makes a vicious cocktail of self-induced hardship. While I'm spending my days with my head in the clouds and dreaming of realities that haven't happened yet, Robin is working her ass off to create her own realities. It is an ever-inspiring source for me.
The thing I've come to realize, though, is that ultimately I need to change my train of thought. The days spent dreaming of lazy nights segue into lazy nights spent trying to stay awake. At the end of the day, the time and effort spent seems completely pointless. In the morning, tired and lean, I feel the most inspired. The nights planned days in advance always hold more weight. I know I've gotta stay on my feet. It gives me more ferocity. I know that when I finally call it a night, I'll get less sleep than if I had opted for a lazy night in. Reeling from the lack of sleep the next day, it's a momentum that I feel like I can keep.
This is not a list of New Year's resolutions. This is a game-plan for the rest of the year.