If I’m honest it’s been a bit shit. But then again, it’s been a bit not shit..and I think that’s the best description of living in Los Angeles I could possibly give you. In my scrapbook (finally coming to an end) I had a hard time carving out the losses and remaining optimistic. I feel it in all my friends too— the sleepy way we talk to each other and the half-hearted plans. But there’s been some brilliant parts— seeing a song I wrote played in an old Hollywood venue and visiting New York to drink hot cider with people I missed and play a sold out show to people who care.
I get pretty scared when I drive at night so I try to avoid it. Some of my closest friends know or maybe they just see it in my eyes and they offer to drive. They’re never going to understand how thankful I am for it. They also know I love food, especially sweets, and whenever I need cheering me up they bring me little snacks to brighten my day. All I can say is, I’ve been eating a lot of snacks.
The last week has been really difficult. I’m home now for Christmas and so utterly thankful for family for always reaching into the gutter and dragging me out with Christmas music and 1,000 piece puzzles. The week has shaken my confidence in new ways. I’ve never been a particularly spiritual person, but I completely believe that the universe picked me up and dragged me out of a horrible situation. I felt a peace I haven’t felt in a while, if ever. Somehow I knew that everything would be okay, that I would figure it out. It’s an odd feeling knowing you’re being pulled to do something else, but not knowing what it is. I’m where the sidewalk ends and I refuse to turn back. Maybe I should read some poetry.