and there is the fact that i dont go out as much anymore. no dinner parties in carrol gardens or after hour office gatherings in Chelsea. no longer strolling along first avenue in the east village heading towards the lower east side and peeking in the windows of shops ive never entered and never will (staring at mannequins the shape of heroin addicts wearing torn wedding dresses or flimsy scarves or hats and jeans with no logos but shocking price tags) on the way to a record store to dig through the new releases on the wall. no dodging tourist in midtown and avoiding eye contact with the street vendors.
its not like i dont have the time but when you work in a bar and you dj in a bar you tend to find being social a slight burden; another task. you find that your jokes are stale and all your stories already told. you dont like to force your laughter and you dont like to feel polite. the idea that others want to be entertained by you manifest itself into an anxiety and the womb that is your office becomes the only place you feel safe.
there is also the notion that whenever you are out you are not doing what youre supposed to. you are not writing or reading or tying up all the ends you left loose. you are being social but not with the right people and this worries you because time has a way of leaving a sting when it passes, especially when it is not spent correctly. so your time must be spent with people who share your clock. time and the time you spend must always be incorporated into your focus and goals. other than that there is no time, there is no hours, there is just those moments you have wasted until the seconds become measured again.
so i woke up this morning and all this was in my head. the idea that i dont go out much anymore unless it involves work. the idea that my routine was becoming heavy and would soon crush me. the idea that i had trapped myself with fear and burden and that i was too busy for my own good. that i needed to liberate myself from these suffocating habits. i needed to get out again. i needed to see the world, the country, the city, the neighborhood. that i had erased the color from my canvas. that i was lost in absolutes [and absolutes, my friend, are the tiny prisons that trap a man's intellect]. i woke up and i had the feeling that somewhere along the line i had made a wrong turn. that i was at a dead end. that there was no inspiration in my future.
but i found a loophole. i will again mine my past. i will again dig into my history. im not sure what shape it will take, but if im going to lead a life where no new stories are made, then i should at least unearth the ones that already exist. bear with me while i experiment with this blog. sure, i will still write about the things that happen to me. and write about music and movies and the news and the strange things i hear about on the internet. but im going to focus more on the events that have molded me into who i am today. a guy that doesnt go out. a guy that only works. a guy that has reached a dead end and has decided to turn around.