Selfie watching clouds while lying on the ceiling at night.
Hi, name is Jon. When I was young, I was called a genius; now I am a loser. It´s ok, I can say it; it´s part of the growth process. I am a 50-year-old musician with 8 albums, 6 national music prizes, and no money, no followers, no significant other, no friends, no legacy, poor physical health, poor mental health, and no outlook on life.
The other day, I was looking at some old writings of mine to post some horny shit on my old blog. I stumbled into an ancient Myspace entry, a ramble-type blog. That´s when I realized an inescapable truth: I am depressed. That 17-year-old text showed a version of myself that was unrecognizable. The deep enjoyment of things, the sensitivity, the quickness, and the depth of emotions; all these things are absent from my existence now, and they have been for who knows how long.
How did this happen? When did this happen? How can I get back to myself? All these questions are the reason why I am here, pouring out into nothingness. I will explore these, in front of no one, for myself, in hopes of finding my way back home and claiming some happiness before I leave this world. Think I´ll start posting that old writing first. Cheers!
