11/5/2023

I went to Johnny's on Saturday night because I needed to feel like I was my own person. I wanted to write, be around other people, and decompress from a week. The week wasn't particularly bad and work remains benign, but I get overwhelmed when it comes to being here in Jackson.
I keep telling myself that I'm going to become accustomed here, find comfort, and manage until I better my situation. But that means I keep a very strict routine, endeavoring to minimize contact with other people.
During the long drive from Jackson to Asbury I was listening to The Langley Schools Music Project. The Langley Schools Music Project features elementary and middle school students covering popular hits from 1976 to 1977 and before. I kept replaying their cover of The Beach Boys's "You're So Good To Me" and The Eagles's "Desperado". By the time I parked and walked to Johnny's I was volatile, the claws of those songs dragging across the thick, scarred skin over my soul so deep-held emotions could begin bleeding out. After I got my beer, some IPA, and a lukewarm free pizza I broke down and wept at one of the front tables.
From there I began writing what seems to be the final act of a tale festering in my head for some time. The execution wasn't exactly what I wanted but I found catharsis writing it out. I knew it was cathartic because a few hundred words before I completed the story my muse fled and I struggled to create closure as the protagonist wept on the shadow side of an asteroid in an alien Kuiper belt.