Hostages

I get petrified of getting myself into slumps of repetion and routine. Some people love routine but I find it terrifying to do the same thing over and over. I have a piece of toast at arouind 7:10am every morning. I step foot on the platforms at Town Hall station at 6pm every night.

I was in a slump when I was at Ezydvd but at least the irregular work cycle meant I could juggle different things during the week and get an entire day off here and there to work on some projects. My current full time job is good. I earn more money - which in turn is paying for my rent - but it comes at the cost of my creative freedom.

It has never taken this long to get creative projects off the ground, ever. I am navigating through an asteroid belt of committments and things just clash. The here-and-now takes priority, my art is left without momentum, directionless, floating through space. Work committments are relentless and numerous.

I haven't blogged like this in a long time and it is strange to start again after such a long absence but I need a way to record what is going on. I feel out of touch with what I've been doing, I can't remember anything I've done, thoughts and memories just slip away or get shuffled along to make room for priorities.

My life is out of control. In my dissatisfied state I feel the need to take drastic actions to remedy this. I feel claustrophobic. The weekends don't give enough time to do work - they barely give enough time to sleep.

I know I need to restart my momentum, I've known this for the past two years. There must be something that I can do about it.

You've Already Made Your Mind Up About This Haven't You?

The past few months have had me feeling like a missing person. While walking to the bus stop I stumbled right into a time portal and right now I am at the end or still inside it dreaming - I don't know. It feels like I've been working on a million things and nothing at the same time. I have been busy, but not with things I'd like to be doing. I have had a few exciting things peppered in there at certain points but overall the 9 to 5 life consumes me.

The day after the MTV show, my dog died. A week after that my girlfriend and I chanced upon a place in Darlinghurst and moved out. Right now I am still settling into my job and my new place. Staying up late destroys me. I spend my days behind a desk or on a train. I am a civilian. I now have restrictions and boundaries like everyone else. Now I understand what it is like to never have the time to do what you want. The nights aren't mine anymore. I'm living on someone else's time. As I pick up pencils and put them down again, I can hear faint whispers of people telling me "I told you so."

This is where I have been.

Products and possessions aren't adequate rewards for participating in the grind, a new pair of jeans won't solve my problem, I still haven't worn most the clothes I bought in Tokyo last year. What I need is more time. But life is too expensive not to work. I don't know how this ends.