Talking to Yourself
So, as anyone who is reading this knows--which apparently is at least a few people, seeing as that I got a few texts and messages about my last post, which I greatly appreciate and love you all--you know that while I'm self-aware, I'm pretty gloriously indulgent when it comes to my feelings and social media. Like. I could post song lyrics and shit all day--and I definitely used to, until people told me that's generally frowned upon. And I get that. But like sometimes I just really like sharing lyrics and quotes that I think are particularly beautiful...AND I happen to be a little too open bout my feelings.
And end up like this. Anyway, to avoid posting about it on social media, and just as a form of dealing with my hormonal self, I began writing. I wrote a few short plays and a musical in college--which is THE hardest thing I've ever done, and if I ever do again, I'm definitely not doing it with a time limit---and throughout the last two years I've accumulated pages and pages of notes in my phone. Little scribbles of thoughts and emotions I've had, song lyrics, quotes I've loved, voice memos--there's literally a voice memo from new years eve where I woke up, sang into my phone three notes, then went back to sleep. iI's pretty hilarious. When I moved to New York however, I stopped writing for a bit. I had just kind of worn myself out finishing the musical, and that, combined with my life sort of falling into shambles with the move to New York and some personal struggz, I ended up just keeping up with notes and not writing anything of actual substance. Having just finished tour, I met some KILLER people, including my buddy Max (who was my goat-legged BFF in the show), who is an AMAZING musician and writer. So we're getting together and writing some music, etc, and last night I sat down to write some lyrics for an awesome song he wrote. To get some inspiration, I looked over some of my notes for the first time in two years.
Jeeze. It's ASTOUNDING how much people can actually change in a short period of time. I know that's a cliche thing to say, but if you want actual, documented proof of your personal life changing, write shit down, then read it 7 months later. I legitimately couldn't remember writing some of it, and most of it read like it was written by a stranger. Some of it made me laugh, some of it was overwrought, and some of it actually scared me a little--it was hard to believe that just a few months ago I was in such a dark place. Not like dark "I needed someone to keep an eye on me" dark, but just deeply lost. And while that was startling to read, it was also wonderful to realize that I'm not there anymore in the least bit--and if I had to go to such a dark place, at least I turned some of it into something productive. There's one voice memo that's been following me around--an entire song I wrote in about 20 minutes, at about 4 in the morning at what I would describe (dramatically) as my darkest hour. Only about three other people have heard it, and the usual response is "Woah." I know I'll probably re-record it someday, because I actually do like the song a lot in a Glen-Hansard-Sad-Because-She's-In-London-And-Marketa-Won't-Sleep-With-Him sort of way--but not yet. I think with personal and emotional material, there has to be a purpose for letting out that kind of sad into the world, and right now it still feels a little self-serving and pointless. There ain't no darkness without the light, and it's going to need some solid positivity to go along with it to balance it out. So maybe I'll just have to write an album. I've never done that. But I've also never been on Broadway, and that doesn't stop me from trying that daily, so fuck it.
It's nice to be writing again, and it's nice to have some concrete perspective that my life is heading in a better direction. I've lost 9 pounds, an inch and a half off my waist, three inches off my hips, and most importantly, I've lost that heavy nasty feeling in my chest that I can barely remember anymore. I think I'll keep talking to myself. It's going well.
Thanks, Kristen.