Weightless

The mood swings have been running for months now. One hour I’m genuinely in love with the whole stupid world, loose and easy and wanting to give people things. Then something shifts—I couldn’t name what, usually nothing—and I feel betrayed by everyone around me, see no way out, want to drop everything and move to Canada. Then I’m in iTunes clicking through Placebo songs compulsively, playing each one until it stops doing anything, skipping every Muse track on principle.

No professional momentum in any of this. When the private side is stable, everything else feels lightweight. Right now it isn’t, and every small task requires a discrete act of will. I feel weightless in the wrong sense—like any gust from any direction could deposit me somewhere completely different from where I was standing, and I’d have no particular argument against it.

I have two theories. One: I watched too much Will & Grace at a formative age. Two: I just need someone. I know that sounds reductive, but sitting with it honestly, it’s probably the closer truth. There’s a version of this I could dress up as creative restlessness—private suffering as fertilizer for art, all that—but you can’t actually believe it when you’re inside it. You just feel the absence of something you don’t quite have the vocabulary for yet.