The above line reflects an uneasy sense of futility that often hangs over some of the things I do with my time on the planet. That rock & roll will also tumble down the hill, & I will watch it with a feeling of deep helplessness. Sure, that sense of futility & helplessness will pass, I have learned that my feelings are not final, but sometimes the bad juju can overwhelm me in the cold light of the morning.
I am one of those human beings who want to create amazing, beautiful, powerful things. Mainly through music & lyrics, but also in my daily interactions with other humans. Living a life with meaning; mind, body, spirit aligned. I know it is all just up to me, plus opening the door to inspiration from all corners & comers. Committing to my own private preoccupations with all the attention, dedication and creativity I can muster, knowing that everything I do has limits. Delusions of grandeur? Ha. I am well-aware that I am a flawed, quirky, imperfect being doing my best to be the best version of myself I can be. My imagination may exceed my actual reach, and I suppose that's fucking obvious.
What to do? Fall back on clear-seeing, knowing that reality is a hard teacher, acknowledging that shit just happens & intervenes at inconvenient times. Still, despite everything, "damn the torpedoes," & gathering up my energy, using those hard realities as rocket fuel for the next song, project, human interaction & moment. Oh, yeah, sometimes reaching out to sublime transcendance. Yes. that happens too sometimes.
