One giant leap for mand kind
Ello you saucy minx,
I know, I know, but before you scold me for my absence, take relish that I have been away for good reason!
I am planning...
Oh, am I planning...
Such as I have never planned before.
It's still hush hush, but soon, Duckie, soon all will be revealed!
As of late, I have spent many a night pondering in existential turmoil about the purpose of us all. I know the lot of us have a dark night of the soul or a pondersome pontification annually (don't we all? We all do that, right?) but recently it's felt more pressing. The spoiling of time, like milk in the bottom of my Fruit Loops. I have felt the dissatisfied un-fulfilment of a purpose not served. So I'm serving... a hot plate of brave Mando.
It's scary and bold and strange...
The more I've leaned about my own craft, the more fear has seeped into the cracks of wanting to create. It's as if all the little intricacies that go into making something seem ten-times more daunting with all that information fogging up the noodle. Whereas before I had no reason not to do something - no fear of "good enough" or "production value" or "marketability." I wasn't selling anything. I wasn't buying anything. I was simply producing for my own cathartic need. Now, it seems like all my moves have been calculated based on ROI (return on investment). No more. Back to the basics, as it were and hold on for dear life.
Oh yes, my Duckie darling, big fun plans.
It does mean staying stuck a while. A small sacrifice for the greater design of my next chapter.
I've made it this far, right? May as well keep onward!
I think when I'm older, I'll look back on this time in my life and be glad I followed the threads of my heart and not the alarms crowding my skull. Yes, I chose the path less traveled, perhaps - the parapet over the sturdy bridge -
I made choices soaked with instability and so be it. Now, we grip our teddy bears tightly and trudge on in the trenches.
We're lucky, Duckie. We really are.
We must smile.
We must stay playful.
And we must squeeze the ball of hope in our palms for as long as we can.
I do miss you, though.
It's hard being so far away.
And lonely sometimes...
I wonder where you are in the world, what you're doing and who with.
Wishing I were there and also glad I'm not.
On nights I crave a cigarette (I told you I quit, didn't I? Cold turkey over a year ago, yay me) I go outside and suck the air a while. Pretending.
How silly is that?
My lungs are happy but I'm fucking miserable.
Those nights, the hardest of nights, when I want a thing to make me feel better - I think of tomorrow: the hot cup of hazelnut coffee in my favourite cup, good pulp in my lap, a fresh page open in Final Draft and John Lee Hooker flooding my eardrums.
Tomorrow can feel so far away.
But tomorrow is a blink and soon I'll have blunked and my big plans will be underway! Ye Gods, I can't wait to tell you more but for now this will have to suffice.
Until next, my dear Duckie and be well.
Stay curious, Kid.
Would that I could send a kiss your way - perhaps I will on a strand of wind.
Yours in fear and melancholy,
Boom Boom