I was so restless yesterday, I couldn’t sleep. Since this summer I’ve been working like crazy, not having a lot of time for other things. I am supposed to have a day off per week, but that hasn’t been possible. Also, they are more or less dependent on me to have the production work well. That doesn’t mean I’m indispensible, it just means someone has to be there. If it wasn’t me it could be someone else.
The same question poses itself, even now after years of professional life: What the hell am I doing? Why am I wasting the best years of my life like this? Why do I force myself, drive myself crazy?
I’m afraid the question won’t ever be answered. But that doesn’t mean I won’t continue asking it. I won’t ever be able to identify myself with office work. It’s just not me. It wasn’t what I was supposed to do. I was going to continue with a but, only there is no but. It’s just the way it is. No further discussion necessary.
So yesterday I couldn’t sleep. For the last weeks I’ve been writing lyrics, and it finally culminated in a song. I got up at 1am and went to the piano. Pleased with the song? I don’t give a shit, I wrote something. I cherish this moment, and this feeling. It feels like I’m getting back to myself after a long vacation. Or after a long prison stay. Take your pick.
I live for these moments. Hearing a piece of music which pleases you. See a movie that moves you to tears. Reading a book which challenges your thought. The other day I felt so alive, so alert, like I understood everything, like I could explain all the mysteries of the universe. These are the best times, and they are brought forward by literature.
I’m reading the diaries of Susan Sontag. Inspiration! She was brilliant, and at such a young age. If I could only be as free and as independent of thought as her.
Today is a national holiday in France. The sky is blue, and the air is crisp. I have a cup of green tea beside me. Today is a good day.