Welcome to my Dopamine Den, where I can revel in my love for minor chords and unnecessary key changes, all of it at the threshold of pain and away from the world.
As much as I’m loathe to admit it, I am just a useless sack of flesh whose actions are ruled by a rickety-rackety neurochemical factory. Much of my awake time is spent in a state of confident self-loathing: knowing I am good enough, but hating every second of it. Welcome to my head, where the background music is a skipping, broken record of bullshit, the insufferable soundtrack of my waking hours.
The past few months can be summarised as a never-ending list of small failures, accompanied by embarrassing heapings of rejection, and topped with sleepless nights spent reflecting over being a feeling and emoting mortal floundering with the implications of it all.
And then, APATHY! Good ol’ debilitating apathy, the only feeling that isn’t but leaves me with the urge to escape away into a dark cave in the middle of Bugscuffle, Nowhere, with the only companionship of my cat and those dopamine-inducing plastic platters I’ve spent years collecting that have kept me from losing my grasp on reality and help maintain the illusion that hope exists and things do get better in the end.
That being said, this was the catalyst for all those things I’ve sketched, drawn and painted terribly in the past year, so clearly, I’m still doing something right. Not all the way a lost cause, and all that malarkey. I MEAN, peep those rocks! Right?
And because it’s Sunday and this took way too long to write (I am very too easily distracted), here’s the only Bay City Rollers song I like:
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