center of the spiral

what’s important at the end of the day? what’s crucial at the beginning of the day? how you specifically handle your responsibilities will answer these questions. in my realm, the bigger stuff often gets pushed back. the minuscule house-cleaning duties and organizational ticks can keep me going for hours while school, music, skateboarding, photography, and writing take the back seat. i wonder what the mechanism is for this procedure. i’m curious how i learned such a habit and what the reward is for such procrastination.

no doubt, there’s a momentum kinetically rolled for accomplishing the smaller tasks of a monstrous world. the difficult, longer-reaching objectives suck up time like a black hole. giving your all to a passion doesn’t always return instantaneous feedback. if it does, there’s quite a high chance it’s negative. the strongest, most skilled opponents are used to winning, and used to us losing.

waking up earlier than a 10:20 class to make a beat is half the battle. but what’s the obscured, muffled whisper inside mumbling? a beat is scrap metal without accompanying lyrics. so while i’ve forged a tool for battle, i feel like the arena is still light years away. no matter the incessant belief that we can change our preconceptions, some wants and desires are just easier to tailor one’s life around. i don’t always have the strength to transform the naturally half-grown fruits of my production into their own species. i’d rather table the celebration and fulfillment for after written word is spoken and its pinnacle is grown.

similarly, i could probably write half this post today, finish it tomorrow, and continue that pattern to upload blogs every other day. but the maestro caged inside denies the satisfaction of incremental progress. for years now, i’m left thirsty at the bottom of a glass of water. where is the gratifying glug? whenever it seems to settle in, there’s a new prickly need gnawing away at my flesh.

possibly, in place of following the same cat-mouse hunt for peace, why not call a timeout and really ponder the playbook in front of me. a game is not won off of one play. satisfaction is not bestowed on an initial stab. these movements of organic drama play out in weeks and months, not minutes and hours. a spastic desire to concoct meaningful music won’t summon the song like a spell. it will twitch a slow conveyor belt of actions into forward motion, requiring a staffer at each stage to attach necessary additions. since my music team is myself, the technicians are all facets of my identity. i’m not trying to be anyone else, but i have to run off everybody else’s output.

we all see one another, internalize, and reflect what we need. to break down my case, since i’m only ever qualified to assess personal peril, i long for a coach to nudge me back to north. it could be diet, exercise, music, or school. i believe the underlying ask beneath the chaos is for support.

the center of the spiral is tricky to hold in focus. it’s surrounding arcs turn it elusive, propelling it into dizzying motion. the question is not how we see what’s in the middle — we already know. but how does one get the spinning to stop?

– D K T


life ends. why pretend

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