Marriage, it can be miserable after a few years, and yet if you spend long enough in one, you have no idea how to return to normal life. The reality is, it's been years since things ended,(no secret) but a lifetime of always being in a relationship, and monogamy, makes a healthy trip back to being single and independent a hard road to travel. Mix in a couple of amazing kids, that I don't get to see often, and enough head injuries to make me a really odd person to be around... You get one lonely man; the purest of intentions, and all the chivalry in the world, but people see me and they expect a bad boy, unless it's playtime, I'm just not that anymore. Quiet, shy unless properly medicated, which is rare these days.
This whole thing had a point, and I've strayed way off it... I've noticed I only write when I feel upset, which isn't that often, I just don't document the good times.

I find my life somewhere I never expected it to wind up, the stress and anxiety have crippled my coping skills. I seldom leave the house, I feel unmotivated, almost repulsed by the idea of being productive. I have plenty of projects to work on, but the desire to produce is simply not present.
There's never a single moment I feel comfortable, people are in my house around the clock, oddly, I'm always home, yet never get a moment alone; I'm lonely, yet need my privacy to dance around the house to depeche mode sometimes. Don't get me wrong here, I love the people, I just really need alone time.
I miss being social, I love what I do in life, I've had the pleasure of taking my favorite hobbies, and molding them into career opportunities. However, as I progress down this path, I find it much harder to sit and concentrate.
Just typing this out, makes the burden ease up ever so slightly. I have shows, albums, articles, shoots and video work, plenty to focus on, and I take pride in the work that gets produced, even with the digital work I take a very slow, hands-on approach, it gives a greater sense of accomplishment when the finished product has the desired effect.
Still way off original intent here, never really recovered after those first couple sentences... My bed is empty, heart is waiting, head is tired and unraveled. This is what selfish honesty looks like, typing for my sake, but maybe anyone reading this far can walk away with a lesson, or some cautionary wisdom. Life finds you in funny places, a few bad experiences caused me to knowingly choose art over love, that was a mistake. Only love, or the pain of the absence of it can produce notable music or art.