The last time I published anything here was about a year or so ago, and recent events have inspired me to get back into it. After a virus kept infecting my previous blog, I think it’s time to start anew. Some of my older writings were more personal and morose than I feel like should be broadcast publicly and, besides, I like the idea of resurrection.

There has been a multitude of reasons to write in the past two years, but I’ve found it difficult to commit to. I have so many moments in any given week where thoughts pop in and out that I want to expand upon, but I find myself lost for words. If this post gets published, it will sit atop a sea of rough drafts that remain unfinished. While I don’t consider any information on this blog to be news or informative content, I believe being able to sit down and piece my thoughts together regarding my experiences is a healthy, redeeming process, and music is an excellent correlate to that. Several years ago, I ran across a blog similar to this one. Every day, they posted an album and wrote a few sentences on it. Some posts were more committed and positive, reflecting their affinities for the albums. Others were more deprecating and pedantic, often with humor bleeding through the spaces. Though I don’t remember its name, I find myself thinking about it often. They had their thoughts and they wanted to share them, good and bad. I don’t think many people ever ran across his posts, and even less reached out. I am fond of the idea that sometimes you don’t know you made a difference in someone’s life, as he did mine. I’m sure he’s still out there, now many years older, endlessly casting those same thoughts to whoever is lucky enough to run across them. I hope the same for my writings here and the contributions of anyone who just sits down to write for themselves. I may not know if it makes a difference, but if there’s any cosmic justice in all of this, I won’t need to.

It isn’t surprising to me that people have found reason to be angry over the past few years: George Floyd, the invasion of Ukraine, COVID-19 and its global effects, police brutality, climate change, mass shooting after mass shooting, the death of friends and family, and any number of other issues, the shockwaves of which will extend far beyond my lifetime. Despite this, what I do find surprising is that I find myself, and others surrounding me, to be increasingly optimistic about the world and our futures.

2019 was riddled with anxiety for me, most of which stemmed from the penetrable ideas that nobody actually wants to be around me, I’m a nuisance to my friends, my coworkers think I’m weird, and many others like it. I feel as though these thoughts aren’t uncommon in your late 20s and early 30s, as a lot of interactions outside of the workplace aren’t predicated on anything like a class or a project, and people generally tend to do things because they want to, not because they have to. So, it’s easy to conflate your worth as a friend to the frequency with which you are included. I lost a few friends that year for a variety of reasons, and my anxiety was peaking when the COVID-19 lockdowns began in the U.S. It was poetic, in a way, that my sadness was at its most intense during a time when many would also experience similar emotions through sickness and isolation. And despite the events that unfurled in the years that followed, many people showed that they were willing to fight for what they believe. Some good, some bad. Some peacefully, some violently. Some I agree with, some I don’t, but I think there’s a lot to appreciate when people are willing to fight for or against something. It is how the world moves forward, and it’s not always pretty.

I’ve experienced a similar lunge forward since then in regard to my aforementioned anxieties, and it’s a great feeling. I feel that people want to be around me, my presence is more welcomed, and that I’m not as weird as I make myself out to be. I’ve put a lot of effort into being more approachable, interested, concerned, helpful, open, and, ultimately, optimistic. Those things change the way you perceive yourself, which changes the way others perceive you, and that has moved me forward.

I chose Stars of the Lid’s The Ballasted Orchestra to go along with my thoughts on this because of the beaming hope that protrudes from the dissonant, desolate landscapes that precede it. “Fucked Up (3:57 AM)” is the most notable of these. It feels like a fight for something – one that can be won. The same fights our parents fought, and each generation that came before them. Fights that are worth fighting because they move us forward, against anything that stands in the way.