sometimes you just feel really dumb for stuff right? like you know that feeling when you mess up really bad but it's not even a big mess up it's just like a quiet one? and it’s about something you thought you wanted so bad and everyone was like 'wow that's so cool you get to do that' and you just smile and nod but inside you're like a total wreck. i don't know if this counts as like a confession because it's not even a secret really but it feels like it. like everyone expects you to be a certain way because of... well, because of what you got. and it feels really messed up to say you don't even like it that much. like you should be THANKFUL. i try to be. i really do. it's just... you know how some people are always going places? like always on the go, seeing new stuff, being busy. i used to be like that. not like *me* me, but like, you know, *someone* was. and now it's just really quiet. all the time. and the place i'm supposed to be at... it's just too big. like too many empty rooms. and when you're there all alone, like, mostly, it just feels so... quiet. like, TOO quiet. and you start thinking about all the stuff you *should* be doing, all the work you should be getting, all the calls you should be making to get more gigs. but you just sit there. watching the sun move across the floor. and it feels really dumb to complain about being in a nice big place when so many people don't even have a small one. i don't know. maybe it's just me. maybe i just don't know how to do that thing, the quiet thing. like you're supposed to just be okay with it. and it’s weird because everyone talks about wanting to just chill and not have to do stuff all the time, but when it’s like this, for real, it's just... really boring? and sometimes you just wish you could go back to when things were always moving and you had to like, pack a bag or something every other day. that felt more like... what you were supposed to be. and now it's just this. this big quiet house and you. and you just feel like a bad person for even thinking this stuff. like what is wrong with me. like, what even *is* this feeling. it's not even sadness. it's just... blah. and alone.