and other stories you don't readily care about.

No Need to Explain, Who Really Gives a F*ck?

I have these moments, I refer to them as "a mood" (lol). My girlfriend recognizes these moments. It comes with being hyper transparent. She got the real me pretty quickly. With that, she believes it would be best to see someone about the whole thing. My "a mood" come on every 2-3 months; unprovoked. I get a little existential and all things feel pointless. A part of me believes that these moments are brought on by this feeling that i've lived to long. Not in a suicidal thought kind of way, but more, my story is improvising these days, confused by turns, that came with growing older than 27. My childhood pact involved becoming something huge in my early 20's so I die an enviable tragedy by 27. A lot of the stars I was into growing up, saw their demise by that age.

I ponder darkness for a few hours. Never for very long, but it puts me in a funk. It doesn't hinder much, but my ability to "cheer up." It's an issue because I am known for being the opposite. I still find it possible to laugh though. I can contribute positively to  conversation. I guess I am not that bad at hiding it all. Or it just isn't that big a deal. Even if it is, (which it may be) as a black man, I have been conditioned by society and my immediate community to handle my shit. I found socially acceptable outlets for this feeling to be scarce. I guess it's grand that I became an artist. That my life, this whole time, revolved around creative forms of expression so that I can emote through my work while burying it under another subject, or projection. Also a grand way to interpret things I cant quite put into words. Art has been helpful, but I don't think it is an end all.

I'll keep creating, using the brief moments in the dark to think on direction and message. Being that emotionally raw helps with connecting to something deeper. I'll be fine, i'm sure.