Sometimes I loose my strength from one minute to the other. I feel tired and weak, I can hardly walk, hardly speak, not read not listen to music. Then I start to seek it out, the darkness. I’ve learned how to save myself from it, but sometimes it’s too powerful to be controlled. It takes over, and I can’t help myself. The only thing that works is going to bed.
Today it came over me. Things didn’t go as planned, and I lost my senses. Now all I want to do is lie still in the darkness and do nothing, think of nothing, be nothing. I’m glad my boyfriend is home soon, he’s out working. Don’t like to be alone on days like this.
It’s not even that things feel hopeless, it’s rather that I feel nothing. There is a numbness to my existence, and I feel no enthusiasm over nothing. It has been ages since I wrote a song, and I feel like my soul is disappearing. I am able to get up at a quarter to seven to write a couple of days a week, but after the hour changed it’s been more complicated.
Work, work, work. I’m so happy to have some money on my account, to be able to pay the bill. Of course the “art” must suffer for me to make that money, that’s just the order of life, isn’t it? ISN’T IT???
I don’t think I’ll ever be content. It’s like a disease to be like this, I know, but what can I do?
I’m going to log off and look for some inspiration. Tomorrow is my birthday. I feel old, but at least I’ll be singing some fantastic choir music for our general rehearsal in one of Paris’ churches, and that to me is a good way to celebrate. That’s something to be happy about. That’s inspiration.
F** my job….