Rubber band.
Rubber band.
Rubber band rubber band rubber band rubber band rubber band.
It’s cognitive behavioral therapy right? The school of therapy that suggests you snap a rubber band around your wrist every time your problem thoughts creep into your mind? Like, say you are trying to quit smoking. You snap the rubber band whenever you get an urge to buy a pack or light up. We’re on the brink of losing rubber trees to extinction forever, but let’s just say for the moment that we will always have rubber bands.
I didn’t think I had bad habits, but I have found use in the rubber band.
The Joel Kim Booster episode of Depresh Mode is really quite good if you want to hear what it’s like to be clinically depressed. I’m not saying I am per se but I really connected when Joel described an auto-pilot routine he’s created for himself to punch through the swampy fog of not wanting to do anything. You add to the auto-pilot routine and boom, you have yourself a completed day.
Routine is a rubber band is a means to get into a routine is a rubber band.
I like, on the one hand, that artists can be unpredictable, lack punctuality, forget the basic rules of workday assumptions, lack routine or predictability in other words, because it might suggest their creative minds are unguarded. However most of the artists I know are an emotional anxious wreck. Do the rubber bands keep us from becoming melancholy?
I need a rubber band so tight it kills me. But the rubber band. Is it the promise I’m keeping to myself or a reminder that I’ve made one?
