here is a list of jobs i think i could be good at if given the chance: preservationist, curator, bookbinder, screenprinter, bookseller, librarian, graphic designer, ux researcher, novelist, cat sitter, professor, do-nothing-er, social media, internet archivist
I think I'm the happiest I've ever been, but I'm still so unhappy. Like the better I feel at X time the further I feel the fall of my lows, even if the low might not be so different. lately frustrated with myself like: I have so much, I have been so so lucky, why can't I just take life in stride. it should be easy for me. "set up for success" etc. I try to locate "the problem" but that seems misguided. feelings are more like probability clouds, right. if I had a do over for my life I think I would mind my own bussiness, be unnoticable. less highs and lows, just try to be plain and unobtrusive. nothing I romanticize more than normalcy.
every day is so different. here i am feeling good once or twice and it's like i've never known a bad feeling in my life. then the opposite hits and the immediacy is much harder to deal with. the scope of my life is so small. what they say about driving at night, only seeing as far as the headlights. winterbreak driving hours and hours to get to my childhood home, childhood friends. it took me days to realize my headlights hadn't been on the whole time, just a faint glow of whatever. i cried on the side of a toll road. never know enough about how things work to feel safe, i guess. anyway: now taking suggesting on how to accept feeling better without immediatly think oh god oh god when is it going to get bad again next time how bad will it be?
you're not really living if you're not crying about throwing your whole life away before 9 am.
feeling a renewed sense of resolve to be a better functioning person. this is because i got annoyed at people implying some sort of self-sabotage on my end via bad habits. like, you're probably right, but i have found the motivator that works best for me is telling myself to "succeed just when everyone expects you to fail." in the past this has worked pretty well in that i have achieved tangible "results" from my "hardwork." however nobody has ever really noticed either the struggling or the succeeding part. i don't think anyone is exactly monitoring me for my next move. my life thus far has generated little external interest. still i find pettiness to do the trick when it comes to getting work done. tonight i will try to write up some possible schemes for interesting worthwhile things to do with my time. i have so much free time. but also, it doesn't take a lot of time to do something impressive, you just have to pick the right goal and hopefully achieve it. the problem is it's hard if not impossible to tell what is worth doing, especially before hand. we all waste our time doing so many unimpressive things, how sad. in general i'm actually against going for prestige, praise, attention, etc, but i get really bothered when i percieve people as "underestimating me." so now i will try to "do things" once more and see how it goes. hopefully well.
bite into Melatonin because I read taking too much can actually also make it harder to sleep. probably ate 6-7 mg. really feeling blue rn. concert was good, odd. leaving I thought "I should just stay in my room. if I stay in my room I won't eat. if I leave I'll say I won't but I will." thoughts like that. ate a few of my friend's waffle fries thought "today i will have only eaten 3 waffle fries." then i ate a lot more waffle fries and spilled honey mustard on myself. it felt like: see what you've done now! then i ate auntie annie's pretzel bites. my stomache hurt after. i try to calculate calories but there are so many variables. i give up. tired of tomorrow being a new day, everyday. want something like peace of mind today. my new therapist thinks i could like living, in the future. and i believe him too, but my mind immediatly goes to: what about now? even though i'm not in a "good place" i am not under the illusion that none of this matters. i'm firmly in the camp of everything matters. everything counts. but none of it means much to me. i could state feelings in simile but what's the point. i'm no pretty poet. i think i'm going to cry now i feel like my insides are made of grease and i am gross and everyone sees it and knows it. night night.
in about 45 minutes i'm supposed to be going to see my favorite band. they're only the opener for this show, it's like a big deal thing. i have been in my room all day, i'm still not dressed. i slept until noon on purpose. sometimes i do this so it will make not eating easier. the past few days have been very difficult for me. lately i have been dealing with impulses to binge eat and giving into them more and more. so then today i decided i wouldn't eat at all. i do this occassionally as a sort of "reset." over the summer i tried to do recovery for eating disorder stuff but i didn't like the therapist i was seeing so i quit. i don't really talk about this with my friends or on social media, or when i do i don't use the words "eating disorder." i don't really want to get out of bed even though i've been looking forward to this for months. this should really go in my diary but i felt like i should update this blog. wish i had a tv show or something to distract myself. maybe i'll finally finish watching girls. i feel like every show is wasted on me now. well. clearly not in a great place but tomorrow i have plans with two of my best friends so don't worry, i'll be out and about and eating then.
feeling very neutral although i should be feeling nervous. quiet before the storm in a year of drought, something like that. meeting my new prospective therapist today, in 45 min. really should be going now. he will be my fourth therapist in the last year and a half. clearly things haven't gone perfectly. i have a french exam right after so i have to hurry back to campus. my teacher has done everything she can to help us succeed: practice tests, giving us the composition prompt ahead of time. i couldn't get myself to look at much of it. i just filled in the homework from the answers in the back of the book and accepted that i'm doing the wrong thing. the sad thing is i really like the class, the teacher, and i honestly want to learn french! i want to be fluent. but last night i just laid in bed for three hours when i told myself i'd study, and by this morning my resolve hadn't improved. ok, i really better get going.
some thoughts today so far: cold brew as a liquid form of self-sabotage. reflections on "the self" best left for the diary, or maybe fiction if I'm generous.
i am considering how much i should reveal myself on this blog. at first it seemed like anonymity was a nice goal. in other spaces online (social media etc) i have tried to be somewhat anonymous, using only my first name or one of a few usernames. but now i find that a random username has actually made me more searchable, and if only you know where to look then there i am. how embarassing, to think i could hide in the open.
as a kid i was pretty good at hide and seek. i had two main strategies i would use. the first was to hide somewhere so totally obsucre people wouldn't think it was a possibility, like cabinets i seemed too big to fit inside or cars or sheds that should have been locked but for some reason weren't. but often these spaces didn't exist. the second was i learned to hide was somewhere so careless it wouldn't be hiding at all. places like doors mostly ajar. i would stand in the dark and wait, and eventually waiting would almost always turn into winning.
there's no real point to that story. now i am older, getting a "good education" and it is clear to me that hiding is not a finite state. it's partial and shakey and a form of relations. you do not get to choose when you are hiding, at least not solely, in other words. but i did like the idea of writing somewhere away from anyone that knows me. writing words with no matching face (though feel free to put one there yourself). now i wonder if anonynimity has to be disembodied. what is more me: my looks or my thoughts. probably neither/both. sense of self as an act of possession, like a ghost in long satin evening gloves. taking just enough of the world to keep holding on. another fun thought: i would like the chance to be exorcized of myself. what would that neutral resulting thing look like?
reading Anne Boyer again. "I am me because my little keywords know me: tagged, geo-located, epigrammatic, identified. The algorithms that supersize our fear and rage will quiet, and a new noise will take their place. Even the end of the world will end. The angel of history might be a drone that vapes, sky-writing WE BUY GOLD in tear-flavored mist against the horizon, but probably not."
happy to be out here sharing my thoughts, however pitiful lacking etc, outside of the larger churn of Content. this may truly be some escape. here's to hoping. ok now i need to put on pants and go to the ceramics class i'm going to be kicked out of at the end of the day because there isn't space. nobody wants me there, nobody wants me here, but somehow i'm all around anyway. self unavoidable.
the pile of dirty clothes under my bed and the pile of clean clothes under my bed has become one.
lately i spend roughly six hours every night wishing i wanted to do something. in my head i will list potential somethings i could do like: read the book i'm really enjoying, rewatch a show i know i like, facetime a friend, play ultramoon, finish the short story i've been writing, finish the letters i've been writing to friends, try drawing something, write in my journal. i do none of them. then at two am i take roughly five mg melatonin (i bite a ten mg tablet in half) and i read a bts twitter au or two on my phone until i feel drowsy. tonight i did my laundry, so that's something. too bad i don't want a life made of somethings. all these little things consume you if you're not careful. i am supposed to eat every day three times a day? i am supposed to stay clean? to have thoughts worth sharing? organize my desk? so say i do all of that but it's not what makes me happy. fine, no problem, that's normal. those are the chores, they don't have to make you happy. but suppose everything starts to seem like that, that's where i'm at right now. and it's where i've been before and where i'm going. oh things that come and go, i'm not sure which part is worse.
me after doing my overdue homework assignment that i'd been avoiding all week: now was that so hard?
but reader, uh, it kind of was! doing anything is terrible horrible no good very bad. would like to be something like a mollusk, alone in the dark of a shell i made for myself. wow i need to lean less on my own emo poetics.
I watched some of this video yesterday and thought well at least i have some awareness of how common my troubles are in relation to the common-ness of all troubles. I'm not special! I'm not special! Nobody is special! I know that, I do. So,,,,,,,, why do I want so badly to be special anyway?
ate a second donut. drank a cup of tea. whatever!!!!!
ate a donut now i am self hating.
eleven eleven make a wish. last night i blew out all the candles on my cake in one breathe. that means my wish will come true. i'm not ruining those chances by blabbing. hmph! today has been a hard day. i have been feeling a sensless sadness. sidenote: does it ever make sense to be sad? i suspect maybe as a reaction, but i'm not sure the last time i experienced emotions as a logical reactionary thing. i had a dream that people in class called me dumb and ugly and fat. very unique taunts! but even having my dreams confirm my doubts made reality harder. i didn't want to go to any of my classes and i cried during the majority of them when i did. i accidentally missed a french assignment i didn't realize i had. incompetent, that's how that seems. now i'm skipping a reading response, the third i've skipped in the first three weeks of the semester. gold star please. participcation trophy. some distinction to make this wreck of a brain worth having, at least from somebody else's pov. thinking to myself: it's ok, be easy on yourself, go home, do something that you actually like. but there is nothing i want to do. i don't want to watch tv or play my silly games or lay in bed and listen to music or finish the story i've been trying to finish but hate working on because it only gets longer not better or write in my diary, which i already did today and resulted in the afformentioned class tears during my art history lecture. why can't i be enigmatic. a person of few words. i'm just another Student whose life has become School. did everyone else also think they would never be the ones to fall for this trap. no not me i'm in it for the right reasons, i've got curiosity and grades don't matter and i'm all about inquiry. that's enough inquiring tonight. i'm not even worked up just done done done.
well happy birthday to me. it's an odd year. i have undoubtably recieved more kind wishes from friends than ever before. i am so so lucky to have made so many great friends over the past year. despite that, i feel a nagging bit of sadness. call it justified aprehension? or disbelief. unmoored, that's the word for my disposition for the past year or so, generally. bobbing at an unknown surface. i remember that in an avalanche to find your way out you should spit and see which way gravity pulls your dribble. the danger of course is digging further down, thinking you could be saving yourself. not thinking too hard about the lessons here. physically i feel queasy and i don't know why. i'm sorry to complain. life really has been very good to me. no longer feel like saying anything.
tomorrow is my twenty first birthday. i was born and i will die. in the meantime i live. more to come. currently listening to this probably going to do some "art" because i impulsively bought construction paper at duane reade. i wanted to find lipstick or really anything to make me look pretty like the other pretty girls. i don't know why i'm listening to pavement. it felt like the "thing to do." i never listen to pavement. but lately i've been thinking about cutting my hair into a mullet and learning to ollie and wearing plaine white cropped tank tops and that would make me happy i guess. to be outwardly something specific and different. do i intentionally complicate myself? i've never thought to ask this question until now. answers to come, potentially. probably not. do less: drink, eat sugar, gossip. things i think i should do more: walk, eat vegetables, respond to texts, gossip. wow. felt quirky typing that. bring back quirky, twee in 2019. i'm pro manic pixie dream girl, on the record. two dimensional girls forever. i want to be a flat character. ok, that's enough for now. i wanted to make this blog sparse because i thought that would make it artistic, but really typing to no one is too enticing. in the future, i will try to try less and pick my words less carefully. i want things to be easy, generally.