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First trip to Berlin, 2014, Photography – Leanne Furlong

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I started earning my living off music in 2017, two years after I moved on a whim to Berlin having spent a few days here visiting friends.

Berlin in 2015 was a world unlike anything I’d seen. Not that you’ve seen much at 25. But, I’d seen enough to know how hard it was going to be, attempting, as I new in my bones I must do eventually, to try and live off art in a world that wants nothing less than another point of view.

This western world thrives off the 9 to 5, holidays once a year, little waves, and little dreams type of foundation to society.

Ireland has turned its catholic upbringing, into a stern believer in the idea that life is to be tolerated, and tall poppies only have themselves to blame for being cut, for such “notions”.

The mantras I heard growing up in a country 800 years under the thumb of colonial oppression, a famine that killed or displaces half the population, followed by theocratic authoritarianism that ram-shackled our culture and identity only further cemented the idea that what’s novel in you should be quashed, lest you perish.

The sayings that came out of people’s mouths after this onslaught of such oppression were kind, considerate, and completely destroying.

“Keep your head down.” “Get a good, safe job.” “Sure, what would you be doing that for?” “You must be mad!”

The civil service was the job you went to if you had any amount of brains. No one will pester you. And you’ll coast up the ranks, considerably well off, and above all else: comfortable.

I have a severe disdain for the word “comfort” when it comes to how you spend the majority of your lived experience on earth.

I realised this in Switzerland, after watching my friend Jimmy Rodgers play a blistering performance in a swish hotel. One reveler, holding a bouquet of flowers “for his wife”, slipped effortlessly into his conversation with us how “comfortable” he was in his employment. He then went on to try and insist he pay for us all to have a night in a strip club together. “What about your wife’s flowers?” I said, trying to get rid of him. “They’ll keep for her, till after.” He said. As if there weren’t an inch of irony in the statement. It’s then I realised, “comfort” won’t settle whatever it is that writhes within you. That desperation will come out regardless, someway, and try and sink everything else in its lurching, reaching, despairing path.

We don’t know what happens to us after life, that’s the only certainty we have – doubt. But, what’s certainly the case is this life will end. And you have, as all evidence points to, most likely only one go at it the way it is now, at least.

To say then, you should follow the path of least resistance, just seems counter to all biology.

Yes, Darwin says, biological systems follow the easiest way to survival. The ivy grows toward the sun. The fox burrows in the most malleable soil.

But, surely, the easiest path of all, is to forgo the opportunity of living. As every inch of this existence comes with some kind of pushing and pulling, towards something. Feed yourself. Find a mate. Find your place. That’s all work.

Why is there anything at all, then, if there’s wasn’t something beyond comfort, and the easiest path that drives us?

Why would ancient neolithic tribe drag a stone from the depths of Donegal all the way to the entrance of Newgrange, if not for something more sublime in our make up?

Yes, I think comfort might be a red-herring. We certainly love to don our slippers and engorge in the suite, eating copious chocolates, and mindlessly flickering screens. But, when this is the entirety of your days, it become morose.

Nothing feels better than relief. Burrows went as far to say “perhaps, all pleasure is relief” when he reflecting on years spent under the spell of heroin addiction.

Having a climbed a mountain, or swam in rough seas, then, above all else, that couch and chocolate reward is tantamount to bliss.

The sufferings and the reliefs, then, are interrelated. They compliment each other. The earned reward is the greatest of all.

Ever notice that your nose never itches more than when you’ve winter gloves, and bags in your hands.

That scratch, after you tore your gloves off with your mouth – that, is one of the greatest pleasures you’ll know, if you really considerate it.

And so we see, things that appear mundane, or rudimentary, appeal to us in the same way a kiss can with a first love.

There’s something driving you toward looking after your body. This will to persevere goes beyond hiding in your cave, The confronting of the discomforting seems to be the way you achieve some semblance of meaning for yourself.

I noticed as the youngest child of four brothers, that to be heard is a difficult thing. So I spent years shouting. But, that didn’t work either, it comes off annoying. So then spent years listening. And after a while, I began to notice things, that I wasn’t sure many picked up on. You see, the busier you are, the less time you have to look about you. This is obvious. But, it’s exactly the realisation that made me sick to my stomach working a 9-5 job.

When I was constantly bombarded by meeting, management, and administration – I noticed there was a dullness growing in my stomach. There was this gaping hole that turned to nausea. Eventually, I started getting sick in the mornings before work. It became so common, I didn’t even notice it much anymore.

After about 8 months of this, my flat mate took me aside, and demanded I go for pint with him.

He said I’d been depressed for months, and if I didn’t quick my job the next day, and pursue music I’d regret it the rest of my life, or die young.

It was quite dramatic, but, rang true, all the same.

The next day something serendipitous happened. We had quarterly meeting with management. And my manager essentially alluded to the same thing.

“You’re not happy in this position are you, why don’t you open up the new middle eastern markets. It’ll be more chill, and you’ll probably enjoy it more”.

“Oh no, actually I quit!” I said, beaming.

The next day I left.

And I haven’t puked out of that gaping void since.

And I never worked harder in my life.

And never felt such relief.

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6/March/2026