When all of the mania dies down

I'd like to do one thing, and one thing only. I'd give almost anything to be able to cycle up this road just after sunrise. To reach the Lighthouse and look back at the sinking ribbon of Tarmac. To see where I'd been, to know where I was going to go next. Cycling's like life, isn't it?

But seriously, must look at trying to get back. I can't describe the pure joy I felt, heading up that road. Doing it again would square a circle - but it would also quiet the storm. That's very tempting, right now.

Back to reality

 And back to the organisation, planning and plotting. Who knew that tours would be this draining - before they'd even started?

My soundtrack for today has been this:

Originally heard on Peel's show in 1981, I'm fairly sure I had to rely on Small Wonder to find a copy. It's an odd single in that it was reworked by Martin Hannett at one point - so that version should be the one which held my attention. Yet, it didn't. This original mix is far superior - Hannett's is too vague, too lacking in direction. A very rare misstep, that's for sure.

Today is all about rest, too. Managed to drop part of the oven on my foot, bruising it quite badly. Mind you, if you're going to knacker yourself before a tour, it's eminently sensible to get all of that out of the way before the fighting actually begins. 

This hit me like a ton of bricks

 It was such a huge moment for me - reading that. I just have to stand up, stand by my choices, and keep on standing there. Back it all up with my drive, passion and integrity. 

It's all too easy to be assailed by doubts when you're organising so many logistical things. But, if I listened to those doubts, I'd be in serious trouble. I'd get onto that stage, thinking, "Well, if only we'd played that other venue that someone on Twitter mentioned instead of this place. Maybe we'd have got a few more dozen people in the crowd". All it does is distract from the main goal - get out there and make everything work. Show everyone there how good you can be. In that place, at that time. Because you committed to the choice, to the venue, to the piece of merch, to the song, to the job, to the career, to the band, to the life you lead. 

I'm back, tentatively.

That was a brutal weekend. It took a while to dig myself out of that hole - and I still feel hollowed out and useless. Life's tough sometimes; it's not easy, it kicks you when you're down, and you don't feel like getting back into it again. But I have to start working. There are so many things at the moment which demand my full attention - there's a tour, a label deal, a publishing contract, voiceover work, and charity work. Ugh, even writing it all down is enough to throw me back down into the hole again.

But overall, I have to regain momentum. The key to that is the same thing it's always been. Self-belief. Once that takes hold, confidence rushes back in. Then, forward momentum is a given.

Turn it up. Make it work. 

 

Utterly empty.

I crashed hard. Today all of my lifeforce left, like the tide. I was just left behind, wondering where my soul, my energy and my drive had gone. I've put a lot into this week - there have been meetings, and endless phone calls. Logistics, schedules, organisation. I've been left with the burden of responsibility on my shoulders, and today those shoulders buckled. It was all I could do to stay upright and awake. I just wanted to sleep for days and days on end. 

I've felt like this before - when there's been a catastrophic failure of my abilities. To be frank, it's not great. Everything runs in slow motion; everything winds down. I'm hoping it passes soon. 

"Up to my knees now, do I wade, do I dive?
The sea has seen my like before, though it's my first and perhaps last time
Let's call me a baptist, call this a drowning of the past
She is there on the shoreline throwing stones at my back"
 

Time for me to start swimming.