"I used to try to run five miles every other day, which I worked up to and I was doing it, but I was subjected to my own thoughts for forty minutes without any sensory input, and I couldn't stand what I thought"
About this Quote
Steele’s confession turns the self-improvement cliché inside out: the problem isn’t stamina, it’s silence. Running five miles reads like discipline, a classic bid to “get better” in the way a culture of optimization prescribes. Then he drops the real antagonist - not lactic acid, but the uncurated mind. “Forty minutes without any sensory input” is a bleakly funny metric for modern dependence on distraction, like he’s describing withdrawal symptoms from the ordinary noise that keeps dread at bay.
The intent feels less like a humblebrag about fitness and more like an admission of psychic claustrophobia. Steele isn’t saying his thoughts are merely unpleasant; he’s saying they’re unlivable when they’re the only soundtrack. That’s the subtext that lands hardest coming from a musician: someone whose life is literally built around generating sensory input. For him, sound isn’t just art, it’s insulation. The quote frames creativity and performance not as catharsis but as an elaborate coping strategy - a way to stay ahead of the internal monologue.
Context matters, too. Steele’s public persona traded in gothic bleakness and deadpan self-laceration; this line fits that world perfectly. It’s comedic in its bluntness, but the joke has teeth. The runner’s high is supposed to deliver transcendence; Steele finds only exposure. He doesn’t romanticize suffering or mental health. He pinpoints something more uncomfortable: the terror of being alone with yourself when nothing else is loud enough to interrupt.
The intent feels less like a humblebrag about fitness and more like an admission of psychic claustrophobia. Steele isn’t saying his thoughts are merely unpleasant; he’s saying they’re unlivable when they’re the only soundtrack. That’s the subtext that lands hardest coming from a musician: someone whose life is literally built around generating sensory input. For him, sound isn’t just art, it’s insulation. The quote frames creativity and performance not as catharsis but as an elaborate coping strategy - a way to stay ahead of the internal monologue.
Context matters, too. Steele’s public persona traded in gothic bleakness and deadpan self-laceration; this line fits that world perfectly. It’s comedic in its bluntness, but the joke has teeth. The runner’s high is supposed to deliver transcendence; Steele finds only exposure. He doesn’t romanticize suffering or mental health. He pinpoints something more uncomfortable: the terror of being alone with yourself when nothing else is loud enough to interrupt.
Quote Details
| Topic | Mental Health |
|---|---|
| Source | Help us find the source |
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