I've had a hyper-emotional couple of days. There've been too many people to meet, too many voices flying about, too much coffee drunk and too much felt - most of it very happy and completely up my alley. But still, the creature that I am, I'm tired and I need a dark, cool place to recede to. Alone, thank you very much (I say it with love).
I haven't slept in days. There's too much shit buzzing in my head - again, all happy - but just too much. Last night I had a horrid headache just behind my left eye and I finally fell asleep at twelve. Only to wake up at 4am. So frustrating. For the first time in my life, I begged my doctor mother to make like Conrad Murray and give me a fucking pill. She said - take a walk.
I needed me some drugs. So I plugged into my ipod. Played me the tunes that always work and shut my eyes. Perhaps it was the exhaustion, perhaps it was the whole smorgasbord of emotions that I'd been carrying with me, but I felt myself getting sucked through a rabbit hole of time and landing smackdab in the middle of 1995 - class X boards, me and my Sony Walkman, playing my first official Beatles tape and realising for the first time that I was an entirely different human being from the one I thought I was. Listening to John Lennon's 'Love', I discovered that unlike the rest of my family, I was a cryer. Music gave me the permission to feel things that were real inside me, but had been relegated to the 'irrational' side of my brain. Music brought to life my inner melodrama...and it's a side of me I love to this day.
Since then, I've tried to find succour in many other things - food, drugs, therapy and even writing. But there's no place that feels more like home than that riff that bypasses logic and makes a beeline for my gut. Aren't we supremely lucky beings? :D
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