No Comfort in Broken Music

I think I&#8217;ve always wanted to be a more anal person than I actually am. I&#8217;ve tried to be the person who puts every task immediately into an app, schedules it, and adds the perfect emoji (the important part.) I allowed myself to obsess over minimalism and Marie Kondo, trying to transform my home into the clean white soulless void of an Apple store. I feel in love with the ideas of Zettlekasten and Roam Research where every fart and hiccup in my brain is meticulously connected to all the others like a perfect meth-smoking spider&#8217;s web. I wanna meditate every day, take clod showers, get in my reps, nail my macros, and hustle hustle hustle. I want to use footnotes. But honestly, I just don&#8217;t give that much of a fuck about any of it. My real life is a maelstrom of monotony and chaos. I spend my days reading books, scribbly sloppy notes on paper, and hoping I can read them when I sit down to right one of these posts. I count days by how many clean pairs of underwear I have left until I&#8217;m forced to do laundry. My living space leans more towards piles than it does toward organization. My analytical mind is easily distracted by emotion, novelty, cartoons, and hormones.<br/><br/>Oh well. That&#8217;s who I am. I improve what I can, and move along with the rest.<br/><br/>As I write this I&#8217;m watching the screen saver on my Apple TV as it shows slow-motion drone footage of people on a beach and carnival rides on a pier (likely Santa Monica.) I hate the way it makes me feel. I look at it and I don&#8217;t see tomorrow. I don&#8217;t think &#8220;I can&#8217;t wait to go to the beach again.&#8221; I look at it and I see the past. I see something lost. I see a world that feels like something we may never make our way back to. I&#8217;m sure you feel it too. It&#8217;s not every day, but it&#8217;s there: the part of our brain that wonders if hugging, and crowded festivals, and movie theaters will ever feel normal again. Or will the trepidation and caution forever follow us?<br/><br/>Oh well. T