I'm glad I came here.
Just like I mentioned in a previous post, I notice how damaged I have become, once the dust settles and I get to sift through the decay.
The studios surroundings is a goddamn haven, a harmonic scene, a refuge, but I find myself constantly assuming that at any second a grenade will come flying in through the window, or someone will put something on fire, or something will explode in my face, leaving me horribly mutilated, or someone will just drop dead, or the roof will just cave in while I sleep.
I am thinking of Neill Brennans brilliant standup on netflix called 3 mics, in which he described depression as being constantly bombarded with bad thoughts.
Just before I left i spoke with Sate One about how I cannot relate to people smiling. On facebook posts where i see smiling people I just think what the hell is so funny, wheres the party and why wasnt I invited. He told me that i probably suffer severely from something. I told him I dont suffer. I just cannot relate. Doctors tell me I have got way to little love in my life. I tell them love does not exist.
I even made a musicvideo, IS, in over the course of five "years" I try to smile to force myself into some sort of happier disposition, but jesus I only look completely insane, which is because I probably am.
People are suggesting medication, but if I need drugs to stay alive, then who am I anyway?
My whole shpiel has always been to embrace who you are, and if madness is all the universe has to offer, then I will embrace it fully.
In 2016s best videogame, Inside, there is a shockwave level, which I find is the best analogy for life ever: Observe the entire universe constantly explode around you, dont put any value into it, time your jumps right and you will be fine. Whatever "fine" means.
Fredrik Strage just got on instagram where he salutes a band who inadvertedly and probably completely unassumingly ruined my life last year.
I walk around with a red crayon, marking the tresholds of all the rooms here because of course this place is haunted.