March 31 2022
I woke up several times through the night but otherwise the couch was quite comfortable. Mom took the bed of course. xxx xxx xxxxx, xx xxxxxxxx xx xxxx xx, xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxxxx xx xxx xxxxxxx xx xxxxxxx xx xxx. xxxxx xxxxxxx xx xx xxxx, xxxxxxxxxxxxx. xxx xxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxx xxxx? xxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxx, xx xxxxxxxxxx xx x xxxxxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx, xx xxxxx xx xxxxx xxxxxxxxxx xxx xxxx xxxxxxxxx xxxx xxx xxxxxx xx xxxxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxxxx xxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxx xx xxx, xxxxxxxxx xxxx xxx xxxx xxx xxxx xx xxx xxxx xxxxx xx xxxxx xx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxx xxx xxxx.
It's a reminder, also though, of how far I've come since last year. xxx xxxxxxxx xxxx xxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx x xxxx xxx xxx. I'm not sure what's changed except time. I guess the difference is that I'm an adult now, and I see myself as different from them. Instead, then, of a world I must conform to I have the freedom to pop in periodically as I please. They know this too, xxxxx xx xxx xxx xxxxxxx xxxx xxxxxxxx xx xx xxxx.
I suppose it's the same with men too. In most families the bond of money is stronger than anything else. For men this is excellent security. They neede not know whether anyone even loves them and thus they need not fear that anyone will cease to
xxx xxxx xxxxxxxx xxxx xxxxx xx xxx, xxx x xxxxx xxx xxxx x xx xxx xxxx xxxx xxxx xxx x xxxxxx xx xx xxx xxxx xxxx xxx xxxx xx xxxx xxxxxx xxxx xxx x xxxxx xxxxxxxx xxx. xxx xxxx xxxx xxxxxx xxx.
Listening now to this modest mouse song
/in this life that we call home/
/the years go fast and the days go slow/
/the days go so slow/
How am I here already, in a family full of adults?
It makes me so painfully sad to look at the people who raised me and see right through them to the wounds which propell them. Though when I get too sad I also remember their wisdom and resiliency, the piling ribbons of existence they've weathered gracefully before my. It is very melancholically beautiful, so bittersweet, to see these two things at once, even synchronistically. It is a beach on a blue-grey day, spitting gentle rain and horizonless. Impossible to see where the sky becomnes the sea, impossible to do anything except marvel art the soaring patterns the birds make by their separate paths in the sky that do not freeze for even one moment, and at all the tiny particles of sand which feel like an especially soft, clean. babyish example of earth (I suppose it is dirt in the early stages), and how yellow it looks in comparison to everything else. So much more saturated, vibrant, opaque, than anything man could hope to create.
xxxxxxxxxx xxxxxx xxx xxx xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx xxx xxxxxxxx xxx xx xxxx xxx xxxxxx xx xx xxxxx xxx xx xxxx xxxxxx x xxxxxxxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xx xxxx. I suppose there's poetry in there somewhere, but I'm not ready to find it. It mostly makes me sad xx xxxxx xx xx xxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxx xxxxxx xxx xxxx xxx xxxx xxxxxxxx xxxx.
March 30 2022
I woke up periodically through the night to fevered dreams which i cannot remember and I am now at a loss as to what to write about. Lately, when I've been dreaming, I form these abstract concepts which take form just beneath the level of consciousness. It is so frustrating because in that moment everything makes perfect sense, I don't just think I understand but I may grasp and full detail the exact shape of everuthing and the shape of the whole, the idea in all its sections and subsections and interrelationships. Of course it is useless because I no longer belong to the realm of language. On some level I understand the importance of that which has been revealed to me, which is why I feel such desparation to grab hold of it, but as soon as I wake up enough to grasp hold of a pen and paper it iis gone. The very act of trying to solidify it is its vanquisher, that immaterial thing.
It is best described as following the mathematic graph which has a name I unfortunately forget.
It is interesting, I suppose, that I have lately been dreaming in theory. I cannot tell if it is a sign that I am about to stumble upon something or if I am slowly going insane. Perhaps with the isolation and focus on my self induced studies as of late it is a bit of both. I have a voracious appetite for reading but also, somewhat, a fear of it, for once I embark on a period of theory reading my brain seems to disconnect from my body and drift untethered from reality. I may lose my entire life to books, which, are ultimately the kingdom of psychogeography. Anytime I read another's account I enter their consciousness and experience a great dissonance from my own experience. I've been feeling especially lately that I am at the point where I must read Deleuze/Guattari to move forwards, but this frightens me greatly. Everyone I've seen online who is a fan of them seems literally insane. I've been wondering if Anti-Oedipus might be a cursed text, with the capacity to delineate the human psyche. Many of their ideas are based on Artaud, who was literally a schizo, and moreover a young woman who was once in correspondance with Artaud was literally driven mad simply by reading his letters. I know the contents of this book must contain some important in influential truths. The question is whether I sacrifice my humanity, or the probable ease of my encroaching adult life for such things. Do I sell my soul for knowledge?
x xxxxxx xx xx xxxxxx xxxxxxxxx, xxxxx xxxx xxxxxxxxxxxx xxxx. x xxxx xxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxx xx xxxxxx xxxxxx, xxxxxxxxx xxx (xx xxxxxx) xx xx xxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxx. It's okay, it's okay, it's okay for things to take timne. xxx xxxxxxxxx x x xxx xx xxxx xx xxxxxxx xx xxxx xxxxx xxx xxxx xxxx xxx xxxxxxx xx xxxx xx xx xx xxxx. xxxx xxx xxx xxxx xxxx. xxx xxxx xx xxxxx xxx xxxxx x xxxxxxxxxxxx xxx.
x xxxx xxx xx xxxxx, xxxxx xxxxxx xx xxxxxxxxxxx, xxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxx xxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xx xxx xxxxxxxxxxxx, x xxxx xxxxx xx xxxx xxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxx, xx xxxxx xxx xxx xxxxxxxx xxxx. x xxxx xx xx xxxxxx xxx. It makes me feel really good that people are reading my writing. The ultimate reason I write fictuiion is that I have such a powerful desire to be understood on a level which is impossible in casual daily life. I am selfishly ecstatic - that the people in my life might read and understand me a little better.
March 29 2022
I feel sometimes that I must justify or explain my interests in queerness as a cis person, so today i will attempt to do this.
There are many reasons but perhaps the greatest and most holistic one is so that I may embark on a more serious project of feminist reading/writing without being a TERF.
I have had close friendships with gender non conforming people from a young age, so my interest in queer theory has never been with the intention of gaining a lacking understanding of this existance or to prove to myself its validity. A fundamental truth of my life is that feminine oppression and bodily discomfort has overlapped with queer oppression and bodily discomfort.
The Queer Agenda, is there is thought to be one, is of freedom and pleasure. I urge the reader to consider this past sentence in terms of ideology, and not to project onto it any individual gender non conforming person, who are only people with complex existances and should never be held responsible for such a thing.
What I am trying to say here is that, by virtue of my lived experiences and intellectual interests, I find that the relationship I hold to my own gender expression tends to be much more similar to the relationships that queer people hold to their own genders than the relationship the compulsory cishetero does. This is not to minimize the experiences of violence which marks the queer existence in this society, which of course I have not experienced.
I call myself cishet because i think I fit that definition as well as anyone could. I see no point in confusing the already inadequate language we have, not in occupying LGBT spaces.
This being said, while my pronouns are she/her and I am happy to be colloquially understood as cishet, I fundamentally do not believe in cisness. I believe every person has a unique relationship to masculinity and femininity that they must negotiate through their lifetime. There are no women or men, only the idealised Woman and idealised Man. The thought that we are not fundamentally women of men should not be a cause for anxiety, as it seems to be for those who haven't thought much about gender. My Womanhood is greatly strengthened, in pleasure and performance, because i have chosen it.
There is no cisness. There is only transness. Because transness is something you do. In our culture cisness represents the 'normal' which is fundamentally an empty word, vacant of meaning. The trouble with gender discourse is that we very quickly enter the domain of language.
I have a growing intellectual interest in corporeal feminism and social reproduction theory. I am not yet well versed enough on these ideas to explain them well, google them id you like. I suppose I can say, however, that this area of study has to do largely with how power is enacted at the site of the body, which I believe is the primary site of struggle in this system of such extreme power decentralization.
Queerness, in this context, becomes an important case study of historical individuals who have refused subjugation to the current order of things and have understood on some leverl, even if unconscious, that their body and soul contain the potentials to resist the administration of power.
It is useful, in this line of thought, to think of the body not as a preordained schema but a multitude of possibilities within a final biological limit. We know that the limit exists, but we do not know where it is, and it may very well be fluctuating, or moving alongside the principles of evolution.
March 28 2022
I have once again awoken to feel ashamed of myself for xxxxxxx xx xxxxxxxxx. Maybe I feel that I've just xxxxxxxxx xxx xxxx. But I cannot help but feel that my quest to be understood is fruitless and I am only alienating myself further. That face is that very few people in existence have my frame of reference and even fewer have xxx xxxxxxx xx xxxxxxxxxx xxx xxxxxxxxxx xxxx xxxxx x xxxx xxx xxxxx. It's like the more I try to be understood the more I am misunderstood, a frustrating and disheartening fact. I guess the best I can hope for is a sort of artistic admiration, I think the website/blog is the answer to release most of my cultural production on there and xxxx xxxx xx xx xx x x xxx xxxx xxxxxxx xx x xxxxxx. The survival strategy for artists I think must be to compartmentalize that part of themselves which is genuine ind true.
I've been annoyed by xxxxxx xx xxxx xx xx xxx, xxxx xxxxxx x xxxx xxx x xxxxxx xx xx xxx xxxxxx. xx xxxxxxxxx xx xxxx xxxxx xxxx xxxxxxxxxx xx xxx xxxxxxx. Maybe the spark in me that loved to argue is gone. I know what it really is. xx xxxxxxx xx xx xx xxx. And that part of me which hopes desparately to prove myself xx xx xxxxxx has been somewhat resolved. With this disillusionment I see xxx xxx xxxx xx xx - xx xxxxxxxx xxxxx xxxx xxxxxxxx xx xxxxxxxxxxx xxxx xxxxx xx xxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxx xxx xxxxx right wing podcast.
xx xxxxxxxxxx xx xxxx xx xxxxx xx xxxxx xx xxx xxxxx xxx xxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxx xxxxxxxxx xxx xxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxx xx xxxx xxxxx. Men really do see nothing except for your body and your femininity, and it's so offensive that they equate femininity with submissiveness. Men seem to think that I'm interested in being a housewife because I renounce the current forms of work and favour love, community, and family.
I listened to a new right pocast for the first time the other day and I realised they notoriously do not practice what they preach. These two women were getting in a huff about how women were meant to be wives and homemakers despite both being unwed and childless well past the ideal fertility age and in the throes of illustrious careers. (illustrious is one way to say it, one of them worked for Trump). I realised that I, who had gotten together with my life partner at the age of 20, plan to get married and have children in my mid to late 20s, hand sew my own clothes, have a conscious interest in being hyperfemme, focus my political activities around developing and maintaining the various forms of family + community, have accidentally achieved these women's belief system far better than they ever had.
Indeed, it appears that the values spouted by the far right are much more commonly practiced in a peaceful and joyous form bu the far left, who have come to them by an entirely different process and means.
There is the guns too, xxxxx xxxxxx xxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xx xxxxx xx xxxxxxx. x xxxxxx xx xxxxx xx xxx xxxx. x xxx xxx xxxxx xxxxx xxx xx xxxx xx xxxxxxxxxx xxxxxx xx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxx xxxxxxxx xxxx xx xxx xxxx xxxxxxx xx xxxxx xxxxxxx xx xxxxxx.
I support the right to bear arms but to the vast majority of people who collect guns they are toys. They are toys unless you use them in some form to fight the power of the state (direct revolution, independent food sourcing, killing/threatening cops). In my own household, which had many for biatholon, guns were as much an adult toy as skis or snowmobiles. I guess there they were connected to a sport.
The dealers I've known too, on the smallish local level, appear to mostly have guns to flex. I'm sure they are necessary on a higher level. But they appear to be in many cases an accessory.
Today is a strange thing which is Monday, that marks the passage of time with great severity. Today I have a whole new week ahead of me of which I can intend however I please.
I am worried about many things, not least my own capacity for work and the unlikeliness I will ever succeed. I suppose these things are meaningless, there are only days and daily tasks which succeed one another.
I face down this small cycle of future with an attitude both melancholy and sweet.
March 26 2022
I must admit I have been avoiding this excersize if my missed day yesterday was any indication, or I have been dreading it at least, when not downright avoiding. Three pages feels like an awful lot to fill when I have so little going on in my life. I have been content with little lately, because at least I have a little.
I wish I could call people in the mornings. I feel like the whole night time of things is half the reason I've been so out of touch with xx xxxxxxx. I'm not so worried about it lately though. I feel comfortable with what I'm doing and where I'm at. A few days ago I didn't feel like I'd grown but today I feel as if i've grown immensely.
How easily my mood is altered by a patch of warm sun and a new sweet trip album.
I've been thinking about xxxxxxxxxxxx a lot lately. I was rereading xx xxxx xxxxxxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xx xx xx xxx xxxx xxxxxxxxxx. It is embarrassing how much xx xxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxxx xxxxxxxxx xxxx xx xx xx xxxx, xxxxx x xxxx xx xx x xxxxxx xxxxxx xx xxxxxxxxxxx xx xxxxxxx xx xxxxxxxxx xx xxxx xxxxxx xx xxxxxxx. It is what it is.
I was actually a bit discouraged when xx xxxxxx xxx xxx, xxxxx x xxx xxxxx xxx xxx xxxx xx xxx xxx-xx xxxxx. xxx xxx xxxx xxx xxx xxxxxx xxx xxxx xx xxxxxx x xxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xx xxxx, xxxxx x xxxx xx xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxxxx xx xxxxxxxxxxx x xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxx. xxx xxxxxxxxxx x xxxx xxxxxx xx xxx xxxxx xxxx xxxxxx/xxxxxxxxx (xxxxx x xxx xxxxx) xxx xxxxxx xxxx, xxxxx xxxx xx xxxxxxx x xxxxxx xxxx xxxx xxxxx xxxxxxxxxx. I used to be able to do relatively complex multiplications in my head but I forgot the technique.
xx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxx xxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxxx. This encourages me greatly with regards to my artistic potential.
Part of why I have been fixating on xxxxxxxxxxxx x xxx xxxxxx xx xx xxxxxxx xx xxxxxxxxx xx xx x xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx, xxxxx xx xxxxxxxxx xx, xxxxxxx xxx xxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxx xx xx x xxx xxxxxxxxxx xx xxx xxxxxxxxxx, xx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxx xxxx xxx xxxx xxxxxxxx xx xxxxxx x xxxx, xxx xxxxxxxxx xxx xx xxx xxxxxx x xxxx xxxxxxxxx xx xx xxxxxxxx xx xxx xxxxxxxxxx xx xxxxxxxxxx xxx xxxxx xx xxx xxxxx xx xxxxxxxxxx xxxxx x xx.
No wonder I so often feel misunderstood. And that the task of explaining myself feels so daunting and fruitless. xxxx xxxxxx xxx xxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxx xx xxxxxxxxxxxxx xx xxxxxxxxxx.
I sound like a narcissistic asshole but I guess that's what a journal's for. xxx xxx xxx xxxx x xxxx xxxx xxxxxx.
xxx xxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxx xx xxxx x xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xx xxx xxxxx xx xx xx x xxxx xx xxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxx xxxx xx xxxxx xxxxxxx. xxxx x xxx xxxxxxxxx x xxxx x xxxxxxxxxx xxxx xxxxxx xxx xx xx xxxxxxx xxx xxx xxxxxxx xx xxxxxxxx xxx xxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxx xxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xx xxxxxxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxx xxx xxxxx xx xxxx xxxx xx xxx.
x xxxxxxxx xxxx xx xx xxxxxxx xxx xxxx xxxxxx xxx xxxx xxxxx xxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxx. x xxx xxx xxxx xx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxxx xxxx xx xxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xx xxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxx. x xxx xxxx xxx xxx xxxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx.
Side note all of my friends are actually so hot and smart god I love them/
xxx xx xxxxx xx xx xxxxxxxx xx xxxxxxxxxxx xxxxx xx xxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxx xxxx xxx xxxxxx xxxxxxxxx xx xxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxx xx xxxxx? xx xxxx xxx xx xxxxx xxxxx xxxx xxxxx xxxxxx?
That sounds like some Locke or Rousseau BS, I suppose, the difference here sould br that in reality xxx xxxx cxxxxxxxxxxx have a tendency to renounce capitalist pursuit, recognising no potential for their happiness in it. Those who pursue business success seem to be very mentally ill people, people who have an uncontrollable need to prove themselves, whose intelligence has made them nihilists, so that they manipulate others just because they can and deep down all they want is to be proven that they can't.
I feel today surprisingly fearless at the thought of moving forwards. I think of xxx. who for the past year has been alone, xxxxxxxx xxx xxxxxxx, in a one bedroom apartment and a new city while xxx xxxx xx xx xxxx xxx xxxxxxxx failing to grow up.
I know my life is good and will be good, even if it feels difficult at times
March 24 2022
I haven't gotten a notebook dedicated to this yet but I really feel that I should, otherwise this will fill up way too quickly, and I like the potential of these pages for drawing.
I woke up feeling like shit. O mornings why must you be so cruel. I think I should call it a posting hangover, I was up until 2 last night on instagram. My throat was sore and my sinuses stuffed up and I felt very dehydrated, overheating in my thick duvet and heavy coverlet, bedclothes distraught and kicked around, I must have spend the whole night fretting. When I post late into the night I wake up feeling distracted by yesterday, since the consequences are still there I guess, and I find it much more difficult to move forwards again. I don't know why. I don't feel bad about what I post. I just know that it exists, so I feel tied to the person I was the last time I posted and do not feel the freedom of becoming that characterizes life and living
I am trying to drink some water and took some allergy pills which will hopefully drain the congestion but I still have a headache, and I still have a general impossibility of happiness ahead of me. Today was difficult to get myself to do the daily pages. I do not want to play, I want to dissociate into a tv show forever (deep down I know I must want to play) I just feel like shit today. I don't think its just psychological or whatever. My body feels terrible.
My entire plan for the week was thrown off track when I though mom was coming today but it's actually next week. Which is good, I suppose, because I did not feel ready. But I think my body is acting up, rashy and weak and faint in some sort of autistic allergic response and now I don't know what to do with myself.
I can try now, then, I guess.
I will let myself watch tv and eat - only one episode though.
Then an hour of 'play'
I will take out the compost and some other garbage.
Some cleaning.
some more 'play'
eat lunch
then I can head out - to the notebook store, then towards cmpus.
Where the focus is to work on my resume + edit short story.
If I finish this well before the radio show, I can go sit by the canal
Alright, feeling good, a little more than a page to fill up.
I think this headache will subside when I have some coffee.
I am kinda sick of all this, of living here alone and suffering through spring and being essentially friendless and how hard it feels to contact them all. It is nice though, that it is getting warmer and I feel safe in this space. Those two things are very nice. Think about where I was a year ago - can you really tell me you haven't come far?
In many ways I am pathetic right now. A slow and dumb isolationist who hasn't had sex or even seen a real friend in months. I guess what I'm learning right now is healthy pleasure, and all the actions of all the humans in the world could probably tell us that is a difficult thing to come by, so it is no personal shortfall of my character that I am struggling so intensely to reach it. I am reaching it though, slowly and inconsistently and I will never be totally without it.
I am not Caroline Calloway. I am maturing. I am taking responsibility for my own life. It is no longer about coming out on the other side as an 'adult' or 'better person.' Of course I want to be both those things. But that is not why I'm doing what I'm doing right now. I'm doing all this because I deserve to enjoy my life.
I am not running away from inhibitionless pleasure. I am finding real pleasure. Remembere that that is the point of all this, there is no moral imperative. And more over that I am capable of that thing.
March 23 2022
The ultimate way to age yourself online is to make fun of Caroline Calloway it is also, I think, the indicator of the different virtues carried by those who have trule grown up on social media and extolling the virtues of new sincerity. They say on reddit that she is enticing because she tries so hard to put up these airs of being a cool girl but is clearly anxious, insecure, and trying so hard to construct the image. Part of why her original Cambridge stuff attracted young people is because as preteens we all felt that way and we can still even now see ourselves in it.
I wonder if this intimacy with the image is lost on millenials.
Caroline seeks to become 'cool' 'effotless' essentially the person she desires by first appearing as the image of that thing. This is also the intrinsic way that people who have been really active on social media from a young age have understood their own process of becoming. Teenagers literally mold themselves in the image of what they aspire to be and maturing in this day and age is a process of growing out of such a thing - not dogwhistling your familiarity with an image community but simple just being.
Just now, in my early-mid twenties and of the 1st group of people who have been using social media very actively since prepuberty I know very few people who have truly grown out of this attitude. I think it is a very difficult thing to do. For me, the process took a long and painful few years which involved changing and working through nearly everything which had previously formed my sense of self.
I am not sure whether millenials have had to do this or not. They seem very caught up in aligning themselves to forms of the online but, some of them, seem self aware at least.
That's how the cruel ones differentiate themselves from Calloway. They are aware, she is not.
I will by myself a notebook for the daily pages and I will buy one for my mother too. I would really like xx xxx xxx xxxxx xxxxx xxx xxx xxxxxxxxx xxxx x xxxxxx xxx xx xxx xx xxxx. Plus it will be easier for me myself xx xx xxxx xxxxx xxxxxxxxxx xx xxx xx xxx. xx xxx xxxxxxx xxx xx xxxxxx, x xxxx xxx xxx xxxx xxxxx xxx, xx xx xxxxxx xxxx xxx xxxx xxxxxx xxx xx, xxxxxxxxxxx xxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxx, or at least I saw that on a tik tok.
What I want for my mother, xx xxxxxxxxxxx, xx xxxx xxx xxx xx xx xxx xxxxxxxx, xxxxx xxxxxxx xx xxxx xxxxxxxx xxx xxx xxxxxx xxxxx xxxx xxx xxxx xxx xxxxx xxx xxxx xxxxx xx xxxxxxxx.
I'm still at a loss, a little, of what to write but I still have a page and a half to fill.
I am a bit nervous to hang out with xxxx, as I am always am to see new people. I am nervous about xx xxx xxxxxx xxxxxxxx. I do not know how I will fare xx xxxx xxxx xxx. I have a million missed calls and texts and feel more or less like a very bad friend. But the aim is the same as it's always been. I must do things for myself instead of others.
Writing is ultimately the process of a stream of consciousness braindup, such as this, and of editing.
I feel disgusting after eating all that sugar. I will watch one ep of tv to recover, then I will clean, dress, play, and eventually leave.