the last time april 19th landed on a sunday was in 2009. i sat in my bedroom and recorded a song with an episode of captain planet playing in the background. flatsound had only just started, i was eighteen years old.

i had no idea that six years later i'd be making a living off of writing sad songs like that, songs about missing people. or that soon after recording it i would get sick, and that the world would suddenly become loud, and that i'd stop leaving the house. i often thought of all the things that i would tell myself if i had the opportunity to go back. all those generic guidelines you dream up while lying in bed in hopes that it would result in a better future.

that depression is a roller coaster. that the sadness will pass. that you'll go on to love, lose, and miss so many other people in those six years leading up to typing this. that life gets better.

depression isn't a roller coaster, it's more like losing the ambition to visit the theme park. the sadness doesn't pass as much as it washes over you back and forth like the tide when it kisses the shore. you'll learn to love many people in the six years leading up to typing this, namely, yourself. life doesn't get better, you wake up every morning and find the ambition to make it better. you reach out to people and get help. you try.

thank you to anyone who follows what i do. this week my first album, scotland, i wish you had stayed, is available for free on soundcloud and bandcamp.