Scotch

You need to talk about it, but you can't.
You want to get past it, but you don't.

Tape it together.
...Hope it holds.

It's like sunshine through the clouds, rain falling in the day. You go from one moment to the next, feeling each emotion full, raw, and real.

It sounds rough, but it's as true for the good as it is for the dark. Everything's amplified, everything's boosted. How many times in one day can you ask yourself, "Did I forget to eat today?"

Right now the biggest thing on my plate is somehow pulling this school play together. There's a week left until the opening curtain and it's still not really ready. The kids are working hard, and everyone's doing their best -- but it's really just a matter of too little time to get everything done as well as I would like them to be.

At the same time, I also feel like I'm pouring a lot of energy into getting the play right as some sort of symbolic victory. Like all the other harshness going on will somehow be held off a little bit if I can just get this one hour of theater to go well.

Escapism as therapy.
Duct tape and mirrors.

Perhaps that's why the simple moments start to feel forced (even when they're not), when the little questions seem big, and the wilting flowers in the kitchen seem to speak louder than I want them to right now.

Man, what I wouldn't give for a couple
of plane tickets and a surfboard... you know?

[Listening to: From Zero, "Smack"]