i like the idea of making new year's resolutions throughout the year, even if they mean they'll save your life, but shrugging your shoulders and hoping you'll make it to the new year to utilize them.
while writing these thoughts and feelings and blurbs and blabs about the records that i loved in 2019, i keep thinking, "maybe i should dedicate myself more to this writing about music thing, maybe i should start posting at least once every two weeks. even a little playlist. even a couple albums i'm excited about. a song i rediscovered." i think about how even if no one reads it, writing about this is almost the happiest and most functioning version of myself that continues to ride forth.
but i also think, "why am i even writing this, the BEST of the BEST [for me]?" i should write my favorite albums on a piece of notebook paper in length order and take a picture and post it on instagram and let the lack of likes make me feel unwelcome in the New World.
how do both of these things exist?
I think it's because the weight of either of them won't topple the boat, won't shake the island, won't wake the beast, won't swoon the maiden either way.
it doesn't matter.
Also,
there is the matter of
holy shit, can you believe that statement:
"there is the matter of"
____,
______________________
the poetry I wrote over the course of the year, the Pennies In the Fountain; I wrote a "collection of poetry" to "release" to friends and the entire world as well. -- When you're reading poetry you almost have to role play someone who gives a shit and who's feeling it, not the other way around. You can't go into it thinking about, say, "Will Taylor Hall's trade to the Coyotes yield personal results and/or a run for the post season?" and then catch a stanza (jesus) and be moved to pause. You have to suspend your callousness, enhance your sense of wonder, like seeing who can hold their breath under water the longest. Allow yourself.
Also, what the fuck, man,
I sent out a 60+ page story to four people and heard nothing back.
Then I went back
and tried to finish it.
Like:
"Hey, the people you chose specifically because you believed they'd give you honest feedback and spend time with the thing you did did not spend time on it. KEEP GOING."
Forgive it, man.
