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Damn the Chicago O’Hare Airport is big. Terminals and things. There’s a decent bagel spot but the bagels need like more salt or something? It was alright, nothing special lmao. The orange juice was more than the bagel and cream cheese, that’s ridiculous.

I’ll be back in Rochester in a few hours. I’m looking forward to it, more or less. Part of me wants to keep moving, another part wants to just stay still, you know? I’m behind on work, I’m feeling uncreative again, but I’m alright. My friends are way too good to me, I miss them. Somedays I feel alone, but then I remember them and I feel better. I don’t deserve them.

This past Saturday I did the biggest thing I’ve done in ages. I created a score, led a 10 piece ensemble of hooligans, set up practices, and performed stargazing pt. ii on stage. I danced a lot. I laughed. It felt incredible. The sounds everywhere, just as I had it in my head. The vibe. The story. God people are amazing. I haven’t felt that emotion in years, that’s where I need to be. Conducting or leading or whatever. It feels right, I’m going to do that more and create bigger things. October 13th is next, I had this dream where a choir just went off with that first line, and now I forget how it goes. I’ll remember it soon.

Flight’s about to board. People are scary. I wrote a note in my journal: “I’m getting better at airports. Guess that means I’m getting better at running away.” I don’t know what that means but it feels right. I want to run away, or run forward, I haven’t decided yet.

1/8/19 Update lol

I gotta get better at updating this journal. But I won’t, because that’s just me. I’m heading back to Rochester from Texas tomorrow, I’m bringing my electric and my friends are there and my doc gave me adderall for my ADHD, I’m ready to tackle life. Kinda. I still feel creatively drained, and a few 8 hour shifts at Chipotle have killed my back so here I am; backless and brainless. I feel sad, I feel happy. I’m working on this wild creative writing piece called HEART EMOJI HEART EMOJI HEART EMOJI. It’s a fiction piece about self harm and pain and love and it’s got lots of little things in it, and it’s absolutely BONKERS. I love it, I’ll share it v soon.

Anyways, I’m still looking for that creative spark. I don’t know how I keep losing it; one sec I’m composing for an ensemble the next I’m playing Batman Arkham Knight trying desperately to escape. Run away. And then I get lonely and come back; is that how other people work? Is that how you work? How do you work? What gets your out of bed at night and who do you turn to when you’re sad or happy or bored?

People are still scary. It’s a new year, and I want to do bigger things. Maybe it’s not people, maybe it’s me maybe I’m scary. Ah well. I like scary things, The Shining is fucking incredible. Crowds are overwhelming to me sometimes. Strangers, faceless all around. I always feel like they’re looking at me, and sometimes I don’t like it. Other times, it’s comforting to have at least someone’s eyes for a split second. That moment of feeling important. Or liked. Or thought of at all. It’s a really weird balance.

Here’s half of a screenplay I wrote last semester. I’m gonna edit my website and do better at being me. <3