I haven’t posted here in three weeks and part of me is dying because of it.
Coachella occurred and was one of the most positive, defining, and real experiences of my life. I was living in heaven for three days; it felt like anything was possible. Leaving Indio, I was confident I was about to write the best shit I had ever written. I was ready to change my life. I also made a promise to myself – I would not remove my Coachella wristband until I had released every word necessary into the universe. I had the romantic, quasi-mystical notion that my memories would be held within the threads of that wristband, that I wouldn’t lose a single thought as long as it remained on my person.
Then I returned to the day-to-day grind: being a commuter student and classes and acquaintances and HBO Sunday night programming. I remember my first night home, refusing to watch Game of Thones for fear of polluting my mind with indulgence and fantasy when I still had to pour out four articles worth of words about the truth that I had just experienced at Coachella.
I wrote my first two articles.
Then I watched Game of Thrones. And then Silicon Valley. And then Mad Men. And I slowly fell back into a cycle of pop-culture devouring that I had wanted to avoid while writing. When I was done binging, I was confronted with the reality of upcoming finals and applying for internships and breaking down in a complete quarter-life crisis.
The final two entries of #CoachellaBingo2014 remained unwritten.
It is now three weeks later and they remain unwritten. But that wristband is still on my wrist. Because I’m a stubborn cynic who refuses to break promises, especially ones I make to myself.
So I’m going to push these freaking articles out of me like a mother in labor. I do not want his to turn into another unfinished project of mine, like gambling on the Super Bowl or binge-watching Mad Men. I need to free myself of this mental burden, my cosmic responsibility to write words. Plus, I have a wedding to go to this weekend and I’m not rocking a festival wristband with my suit. It’s just not a good look.
I don’t want this post to sound like an excuse for my mental block. I did that before, 13 months ago, and now it reads as kind of lame.
I needed to write this to explain myself to myself. And to you. And to the friends who helped me so hard with #CoachellaBingo2014 who I feel like I let down. I know that I could’ve written in the past three weeks and I know that I didn’t. It sucks. But that is the reality that I am faced with today and today is the only day I can change.
Also, part of me is paranoid that the only reason I have yet to obtain a summer internship at Grantland is because I haven’t finished writing these articles. Maybe as soon as I publish what I need to publish, that golden email will arrive in my inbox. You never know – positive outlook, positive outcome.
So today I write. And I get back on track.
My New Year’s Resolution was to have faith in the process in 2014. To acknowledge that if I put in work and committed to a belief that good things would happen, good things would happen. This is my recommitment.
Now, like Freddy Rumsen’s wise words to Don Draper, I just have to do the work.
I hope this wristband still has the memories. I have a feeling it does.