A million miles away

After a summer of rest and hibernation, I jumped back onto the ferris wheel and noticed that the speed has cranked up a notch or two.

It took a moment to adjust to this new rapid pace.

But as always, once I get settled it becomes like the eye of the hurricane, and you find some tranquility amidst the mayhem.

Bouncing from studio-to-studio, from project-to-project, album-to-album, and keeping your eyes on the prize every step of the way can be a daunting task.

This just feels like spinning plates.

And once you surface from the cave and pop your head up for air, the universe swoops in and whisks you away before you realise what’s happening.

Yes, the universe has plans for you, whether you like it or not.

Next thing you know, you find yourself in another continent, with another team of compadres.

Just as wild as the last bunch.

You didn’t plan any of this.

You just went along for the ride, but you’ve somehow wound up in the drivers seat.

You are surviving through the terrain on instinct alone, and only listening to the advice of your gut.

It becomes like autopilot.

Sometimes you just let go of the wheel and see where the road takes you.

And it’s okay if you veer off the path.

In fact that’s better.

It keeps you on your toes.

Just as long as you get back on track.

But I digress.

The whirlwind has stopped and plonked me back home for a short period before it decides to whisk me away again.

I’ve returned, but it is only a slight return.

I’m here but I’m not here.

My mind is a million miles away.

Already swinging to the next branch.

Letting go of the last one.

Yes.

It’s true.

Survival in the jungle is a madhouse.