Interstice

There is a minor void waiting to be filled. I do most of the writing for this on the bus. It passes the time quickly and removes my attention from my status as a fat person on public transit. In public. Breathing.

This week has involved significant disruptions to routine. No bus, no writing. We’ve had work stuff and music stuff and life stuff. “Normal” “service” will resume. I wrote a song at the weekend in a collaboration sparked by last week’s Friday Feelings post, so that’s abundantly cool.

On my lunch break today, I started writing another song (which is bad practice, because I have so many songs that need to be finished [this is a self-imposed thing, deriving from all sorts of internalised social pressures — there is no actual deadline or external desire/expectation for these songs to exist, let alone be finished].) Worried that the melody is cribbed from a song I know, but I can’t place it, and I’ll rework it if necessary. Like the time I realised 25 Years of Rain’s chorus was sounding an awful lot like [REDACTED], so I changed it.

Do you get lost without a map?

Are you caught up in a trap?

Do you just get hurt

By the ones you love?

Are you outside looking in?

Have you has or hasn’t been?

Are you tired of waiting

For Godot to show?

Let me know

How that goes

I’ll stick around

Even when the sun goes down

I’ll be found

In the ashes when it’s rising

There’s a sound

In the silence that’s profound

Just stick around

Because there’s hope on the horizon