Piss On Concrete
2026-05-16
I've been thrown the fuck off. I am feeling formulaic, creatively destitute. No matter; these things are part of it all, and in my mind's eye—a small glimmer of light will shine and show me the way. Do you ever feel like when things are going right, there's a part of yourself that feels like you don't deserve it? I don't know, being grateful is a tough thing. Why am I so fortunate? Am I even fortunate at all? It's so strange to me, wondering how there's always gas in the tank. Stopping to refuel—that's been a weird thing I've had to learn. You know, I just need time to let loose. There's a strange little thing in me that's got to release the pressure, otherwise I'm toast. It's odd, figuring out coping mechanisms. I feel like there's still so much I'm hiding, and it makes me wonder about my own supposed beliefs in action. Privacy and transparency aren't these diametrically opposed things, and there's a sort of pluralism there most people can't really put their finger on. I used to bemoan this idea of hiding certain things to maintain social harmony, but now I understand the importance of it.
Not only do people not need to know certain things about my life, but they also don't need to understand. I've been one to blurt out TMI before, but more than that, it can be weird keeping others' secrets. I'm sure we've all been there with someone: an embarrassing moment shared, a weird discovery about someone you thought you knew—these things can eat at you after a while, I suppose. But more than that, when that thing is eating at you—and you can't name it—that's a weird thing on its own. Coming here, writing these thoughts, and putting them in my own space makes me feel like I'm getting closer to that moment of self-discovery. It's nice being here, uninterrupted and able to process the top of what's on my mind. I've been more perceptive of the form where that takes place, albeit due to negative experience in other mediums. A forum where no one knows your government name, a place out in a different town where no one knows what your day job is; these places can be freeing for some, but I never saw the appeal.
The person I'm most afraid of finding out who I am: that's me. I don't want to accept certain things about myself. My emotions, the stims, the crying, the weirdness, the performance—I can't bear what that is for me. I've never been one to be too concerned with the judgments of others, but when I spend so much time holding myself up to a certain standard, I get burned out. I like being by myself, where no one is expected to talk to me or bother me. All I have is my music, my impulses; nowhere to go, and nothing to do—that's how I like it. I hate itineraries and calendars and meetings and places to go and things to do. Can I just have a place where I'm not expected to be anyone for a while? I want to stay in my mind fortress. I want to think about stuff.
All this toiling is like piss on concrete. Two hours later, it's like it wasn't even there.
To be so creatively destitute is a tragic thing. With all this amazing art, one would think there's more than enough fuel to keep the fire going for a long time. I don't know what fire is still going anymore. It's just so aimless, and the lack of form speaks to something I can't find within myself; why does it have to be like this? Every day, this constant turn of the page. My blade is dulling, and I can't sharpen it. I thought the writing would always keep it sharp, but there's only so much juice in the squeeze. I need to do more living, but I'm so damn tired. There needs to be more risk, more adventure. But I want to do it on my terms. The last thing I'd want is to just be a hapless consumer, chasing trends and a false sense of belonging. I don't need to belong to anyone; there's so much more at stake than a supposed place in the world. It's all dust. All of it.
Can you hold me close? I don't know who you are, and I'm sorry. I wish I could tell you something to make your day better, but instead all I can do is bitch about mine. I hope that's okay. I hope it'll do. Did you tell that one special person you love them yet? Do that for me, why don't you? I promise you'll feel better. Can you believe it's been this long? I can't. Do you think it'll keep going? I don't know either. What if we just stayed here for a little while longer? Would that be okay with you? Just stay here on this page for a little while, take a pit stop. Get off your computer, put your phone in your pocket and put it on silent; just take a deep breath after this.
You earned it.
Bitcoin address: bc1qtgqvj6qjxnaxkns20x5rcwnxvv3jqzhduvvxfc