Songwriting used to be such a big part of me. I used to be able to write at least a song a month, if not more, and though they weren't all great, looking back I can proudly say that I wrote some lyrics of real quality that I can still appreciate. Though many of my songs came from a (somewhat embarrassing) place of adolescent angst, I can't deny that those feelings were real and extremely powerful.
I can't write anymore, and I don't know what that means for my life. I haven't written a full song in over a year, maybe two, and it's hurting me. I'm grieving and mourning that part of me; I feel alone and lost without it. I know that I am more content with my life now, and maybe that's why I just don't have the passion within me that I did when I was going through rocky times of heartbreak, identity crisis, loneliness and loss. While I don't miss those things, I miss the art that I made out of them. There's a line from an Adele song that I love that says, "Turn my sorrow into treasured gold," which applies perfectly.
But the ugliness of it all is that I still have a lot of the feelings that once inspired me so much. My life is far from perfect. Rejection, confusion, hopelessness, emptiness. I've had all these feelings in recent times, but my talent for spinning gold is missing in action. These feelings are rotting and fermenting like bad apples inside my heart.
I'm going to be honest, more honest than I usually choose to be in this public place. I'm in a bad way. I feel as though I can't get through a day without wanting to cry, like I don't know or even particularly like myself, like the weight of the world is on my shoulders, and mostly, hugely, like something is missing. All I want to do is find refuge in a guitar and a pen like I used to, but that doesn't belong to me anymore. It's like wanting to cry on the shoulder of an former lover but knowing that you can't, knowing that your days with that person are past. How do I move on? Do I keep on trucking, faking it till I make it? Do I keep pathetically trying to rekindle the flame?
I remember sitting on my bed crying, scribbling down words and singing until that final moment of release, when the joy of creation overcame the labor pains of birthing a song full of emotion. It made those feelings so much less hard to deal with. It was like every time I sang the words, the emotions became less powerful, like a magic spell. Now those same feelings are overcoming me, winning the battle, and I am weak, getting weaker.
I'm not sure how I am supposed to live. Any advice would be welcome.
1 comments:
well i love you. and if you want to cry on a day you can always come to me. but i think you know that.
but i'll just tell you, you're writing hasn't gotten any worse, that paragraph after the part about the bad apples was pretty poetic in itself.
maybe you're thinking about it too hard. or maybe your not. maybe you've started worrying too much about what you're writing and what it may mean. maybe you're not.
i can't tell you whats happening. but i can tell you that you don't need advice on living. You are doing it every day. But remember how much you value a good self-image...I know you have one and don't let these feelings take over that. But when those feelings do get big and blow up, that's what friends are for.
love youuuuu.
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