In which our hero, who was born to write songs, tries to figure out his life with help from the interviewer.
Tuesday, April 18, 2017
It's always solitary confinement
Man. it's been a long time and I've been going through these mental illness type of shit and it's been hard, man, I been desperate. And I'm going to Ireland tomorrow.
Tomorrow? Already? Are you ready, farmboy?
(sighs) Very ready. I have some very small things that need to get done but I'm packed, I got meds, plane reservations, CPAP machine, international electric plug thingies, passport, nerves and Klonopin. I'm actually more relaxed than I thought I'd be.
Saying that, I've worked hard for it, and I'm trying not to be an emotional mess about everything. My therapist called to cancel because his kid was sick and I cried for a fuckin' hour because that's what I've been looking forward to. That was supposed to big the big reward, the highlight of the week. And of course I can't blame the therapist or his kid. There's no choice there. But, man, so many things have been going so wrong for so long now that...fuck, I don't know. I'm trying not to be angry, I'm trying not to be emotional. I want to be calm and rational and resilient and flexible. I want to be not afraid.
I'm scared shitless, man.
I know, farmboy.
I wish I had somebody to go with me. (starts to cry) I don't know why I always have to be by myself. I don't know why. It's so unfair. It's always solitary confinement no matter where I am.
Are you going to be okay, farmboy?
Of course. I'm always fuckin' okay.
But are you really going to be okay?
I am. I'm going to Ireland. And it'll be all right. I dread the trip. But I can't wait to be there.
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