The One With the Clear Update

The headline lies, as it usually does. I opened up this window with the sincere desire to say exactly what was going on. 

But then I forgot what particular thought of mine led me to take such an action.

I wrestle with the idea of relaxing. I am a person who feels relaxed mostly when I am writing something or creating something. 

Tonight I have to go sleep earlier than usual for Lynchburg time because I have to take my father to the hospital to be there at 5:30 a.m. for a surgery. For the past four months or longer I've been a major character in their lives. If this were a play or a sitcom or a movie or a chorus, we would all be players. 

I'm far too tired to write that out at the moment, but I know my own song in this epic is one of trying to figure out what storyline of my own life I'm supposed to follow. 

When I used to sing in a band, I never wanted to write songs. I just wanted to see where the music took me. This has resulted in a lifetime where I know my music but what I create is cacophony to most.

But for the past three months I've not done any recording of music. Or if I have, I've not been able to focus on that. I have to focus on the melodies or cacophonies of my family. Each of us has a story and not everyone wants to hear all of it. Over the years this blog has not had anything really about me and what I've done through. I've become more obscure and distant because I can't put out details into the world. 

I've also spent the last 20 years or so trying to establish my professional reputation. I keep sabotaging it, or threatening to sabotage my work, all through ridiculous deceptions against the self.

The clear update is that I am still me in this time, even while around this who don't seem to go through the life the same way I do. I can't explain myself to everyone. I know that I'm a strange person. 

What does that mean? Am I copping out by deliberately being obscure, or do I just like writing in a way that threads multiple storylines into one? Do I like feeling like anything is possible as long as you plan for it? Do I like that I'm almost 50 and I know there is a reservoir of optimism in me hidden underneath a crust built of years of bitterness?

Who am I?

I don't even know. I just show up to be me every day and hope for the best.