it feels strange, having been in school now for nearly a month. i have zero room to breathe, much less to sleep. between school, work, and the show (because of course, it’s me, there’s a musical), i’m pressed for time in the worst of ways. i am a senior in high school this year, which means college applications out my ass and the constant pressure bearing down on me that is reiterated again and again by teachers, colleagues, family, and the majority of the adults in my life: “what comes next?”
shit, man. i wish i knew.
i’ve been cracking my knuckles and knitting to relieve stress. i know that sounds like a cookie-cutter recipe for arthritis, which is made worse by the constant fingerpicking that comes with trying to write and write and write music. when i tell people (read: “grown-ups”) that my senior capstone project is the creation of my album, i somehow manage to sound simultaneously like a pretentious asshole and a hopeless dreamer. and then i think, “isn’t that who i am?” and really, maybe it is. maybe i am clueless (who are we kidding, really? i’m lost. i have no idea what the hell i’m doing). maybe all of this is some fever dream, a nasty cocktail of chemo drugs or one roofie’d champagne glass too many. one day i’ll wake up and find myself in one of two situations: either famous, surrounded by concerned and adoring fans, or in a cardboard box on the corner of two unnamed streets in some third-world city.
god help me.
really i guess i’m just conflicted and overwhelmed. what to do with the rest of my life?
we are made of space dust 