My last breath.

Today I was thinking about my lastlast on Earth. I was walking around my condo saying things like:

Someday, you will have your last cup of coffee. Someday, you will wake up and make your last plans for the day. Someday, you will say your last word to someone. What will it be? Will it be a good word? Memorable?

I went into a whole existential rabbit hole of thoughts on how, on a long enough timeline, my entire existence will be forgotten, just as countless other people’s entire history is forgotten every minute of every day. I wondered how long it would take for my history to be erased from existence.

These are the types of things I think about when I’m trying to motivate myself to do the little things in life; to be productive.

So I started work on organizing my office/studio better. I’ve always been somewhat dissatisfied with the layout. But I think I’m getting closer to a better place. I hope it will be more relaxing when I’m done with it. Currently, when I try to write music, all I can think about is all the things I ought to be doing, instead of just doing.

So I did.