How to talk about thoughts about work (in public) that I need to articulate and work through a bit without said thoughts taking on a political dimension – feeling like part of some attempt to game social reality. How to deal with personal frustrations (or let those frustrations go) without projecting perceived inadequacies onto other people. How to reconcile the satisfaction of a work that will result in something made with the desire to work on a subject that you’re passionate about. How to know when one is doing that. How to think about what’s next without sorting out what is. How to handle the frustrations of watching other people do work in places where you used to be the only person who cared. How do deal with people communicating things you want to communicate but didn’t think you should. How to not sound shrill and callous and vengeful and bloody. How to not sound desperate and flighty and trivial and fake. How to tell whether your impression of things is a lie or not.
These being an adequate representation of the conundrums I find myself dealing with on a Tuesday evening, because it would of course be too much for me to scratch out any kind of mental peace.
My head, unfortunately, is far from in the position to do its best thinking. My blood feels like it has thickened to the consistency of thick pressurised loam, to be forced at pressure through brain-flesh, capillary and straining vein. Mental clarity is unlikely to be found in such a state. So I shall have a bath and go to bed. In the meantime: Conundrum vs. Conundra.