Sometimes I feel down for no good reason at all. I always panic in those moments. I want to move. I want to change my whole wardrobe. I want to meet new people, or apologize to friends I haven’t spoken to in a decade. The whirlwind gets bigger and louder until I’m curled up on the floor and feel like the tiniest crumb under the weight of unending chaos and time.
This happens every time I stop writing.
But when I do create — when I do have an outlet — I become a channel for the vortex. The colors become brighter. The problems become fascinations. The chaos turns to music and time becomes the ocean lapping at the shore — smoothing over the impressions I’ve left behind and softening the canvas of sand ahead.
Once we know that kind of beauty, we can’t be separated from it. Even on the dullest days, the boring days, the piles-of-bills days — keep looking for the glimmer.
“Picture yourself on a train in a station
With plasticine porters with looking glass ties
Suddenly someone is there at the turnstile
The girl with kaleidoscope eyes.”
― The Beatles
“You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche