Day Three hundred and sixty one - Kaleidoscoping

Some things that I knew about this project early on : I knew exactly what the last two posts would be called, and - for the most part - what they would consist of, though I briefly entertained the idea of combining them into a single post, but I ended up deciding against it. Then, some time after the half way mark, there was something that happened during that time in my personal life that helped me steer my path towards where I am heading. In truth, I always knew I was heading somewhere after this, though I did not yet know where that would be, and now I have a much clearer vision of that. That chance encounter with a ghost from my past led me to listen to what was my favourite record from 2019, by miles ahead of any other record that came out that year - even topping Mono's 'Nowhere Now Here', something which actually contradicts what I wrote yesterday, but them's the breaks. That record is by a band called 'Her Name Is Calla', and is titled 'Animal Choir'. I wrote about it some years back on this post, back when I was addicted to listening to it - and I was, I listened to it all the time, so much so that I highly doubt I listened to anything else for months on end other than that record, and shortly after I wrote the aforementioned post, me and singer Tom Morris engaged in an online conversation where I showed him my thoughts about the record, and he was kind enough to read my words. 

As I returned to the record, midway through the year or thereabouts, I found myself fixating - yet again - in everything it originally held sway over me : Tom's amazing voice, the beautiful, haunting melodies, and above all - his words. This album is nearly perfect to me, and most of all I prize two of its songs : 'Frontier' and 'Bloodline'. The latter is especially relevant to me, and to now, and to all the decisions I've been making. There's a line in it that I have always loved : 'I don't want to be a part of this'. And as this year moved on, and wore on me, I found myself repeating it over and over again. It came to steel my resolve, in order for me to take the steps for what lies ahead. It also came to inform much of my writing from July onwards - as the tale of me came to an end, I started writing down some stories; some I came up with, others were dreams I'd been having. It wasn't until I'd written a bunch of them that I realized I could connect them, tie them to a sort of thematic recurring idea, that of repeating patterns. Loops. The ones we don't want... and the ones we want. Whatever fiction I wrote this year ended up touching on those ideas, and maybe, had I been born more ambitious, I could have crafted a decent story out of all those dangling threads.

But loops, man, those damned loops. They always, always remind me of this bit from 'Bloodline', this bit that's run through my head so, so many times, especially this last quarter of the year : 

'We wanted this loop and we’ll live it out now for as long as we can

I don’t want to be a stranger in a strange land anymore.

There’s nothing else to say, there’s nothing else to do

This is the part where we change or we fade or we dig even deeper down

I’ll see you in the next life.'

In 2020 I wrote :

'These decisions are the type of stuff that I've never been good at. I never knew when to stop. I never knew when to let go. I never knew how to move on.

And as I listen to these words, all I can say is 'I don't want to be a part of this'. I'm exhausted. Life has been draining me and I have so little joy in the mere act of living. Maybe I don't live at all, I just exist. 

Maybe I'll learn these lessons. Maybe now. Maybe in the next life. I'll see you then.'

I've changed since then, especially in this year that's about to end. I haven't changed enough, not yet, that much I know, but it's something I'll be working on with more dedication henceforth. I found strength in me to do things and make decisions that I wouldn't have been able to do four years ago. I wouldn't have been able to do them a year ago, even. But now, for my sake, for everyone's sake... I'm finally letting go. And letting go isn't synonymous with forgetting, and it isn't necessarily the same as moving on - in this case I mean I'm finally making peace with what's inside me, and what I carry in my heart, and the fact that it will be mine alone for as long as I live. I raged against such notions in the past, I do so no more. I accept it, I welcome it, and acknowledge that it is no burden - it's just a facet of the ever changing prism that is me.