Symptoms of Loss

by DB TINK

Just makes you sad and angry. Time as a healer is slower than slow, but it freakin flies when you’re having a good time. I’ve been lucky enough not to have lost someone dreadfully close to me too. How that must feel…wow, forget about it. Disaster and heartache sucks.

What I’m on about here is small fry compared to what some folk go through, but it still has me yelling and wanting to smash plates. I can’t help it. I felt like demolishing something just then. I pictured a washing line of glass panes hung up outside and me swinging at them with a baseball bat.

Yesterday the keyboard comes out and a tune gets done. About f**king four hours of f**king about. Record a bit, save it, listen to it, try and match it up, bin it, try again, tinker the volume, no good, start again, adjust the microphone, in and out of the chair, up and down, on and on, four hours.

Finally. Got it. Listen to it a couple of times. Bit more tinkering. Pull keyboard out again so I can sit down. Still not right. Push chair under desk so I can get keyboard in again. Every bleeding 2 minutes. Keyboard’s on a bloody ironing board by the way. This is just the tip of the iceberg. But ah, at last, nailed it. Listen to it a couple of times. Yeah, not bad.

Then gone. The whole thing. All my craft. Gone at the b*stard click of a b*stard button. Don’t ask me how.

What can you do? Curse and yell, naturally. But what then? Take a walk? Good idea. Cool off. Nail it when I get back. Know what to do now. Do it all again in about an hour. And I did. No probs. Told ya.

Today, June 5th. Different day, different song. Better song. 3 or 4 hours again. Go the garage. Finalise when back. Sorted. All done. On YouTube. Laughing. Oh wait. Something’s wrong. Oh yes, of course. Gone at the click of a button again. Layers and layers, sounds and effects, disappeared. All my craft.

8 hours in total, down the swanny. It’s not sat still either. It’s a stressful and frustrating trial and error process.

Start again tomorrow? Make it even better? Probably. But it won’t repair that despair in the pit of my gut. That loss. That howling void. Makes you punch walls.

At least it wasn’t 8 hours of writing. Now that would sting. Just think, there must be someone out there somewhere who has lost a whole book. Can you imagine that? Laying down your most intimate ideas, beliefs and experiences over a year, only to go lose it? The idea improved my mood, Schadenfreude, until it dawned on me that I actually knew a guy who had lost not just an entire book, and his very first at that, but his second book as well – Andrew darn Donegan!

I’d forgot about that. Them. Him.

^^^ Sad. ^^^ Angry.

I feel you bro.

Lock your car doors if you see me approaching. Big man coming. He ain’t a happy bunny.

Only Desire shepards us from Death – Cradle of Filth