15.03.24
Feel crap today and I don't know what else to do other than spill it all over everywhere. Recently my posts have been just for entertainment… writing only when the paint has dried… but now the paint is very wet and fresh and I feel like splattering it onto my computer. I'm writing directly into the app so that I feel like I did when I would write my early posts — when I wanted to be close to myself and tell everyone who I was, very pointedly, so that they couldn’t take any wild guesses.
A few people have recently said I give too much of myself away on Substack, but I actually give very little. When I feel insecure and tell people about it, that’s when I’m having the most fun. I have always been candid but I know when to stop. God knows there are details missing from everything I say in these blessed posts.
I can’t write about what happened this month because I’ve talked about it to death with everyone in my life and also a million people I work with subscribe to this (which I like FYI). But I think it’s the reason I feel bad. As the days pass since I walked away from it, I am forgetting how shaken and stressed I felt throughout the process. I’m just left with a panic that I’ve let an opportunity slip out of my grasp; backing out of something that would put me in the much revered yet poisonous category of ‘very young and successful’. But also who cares. Especially if it makes you feel weird. I refuse to feel weird! The only reason I feel like shit now is because I want other people to think i’m impressive. In my body and my mind I feel so relieved and happy where I am, and Callum agrees and I only care about that anyway.
A beautiful and nervous french girl read my tarot cards and said I made the right decision, and that there was a big star guiding me. She said there is someone very kind who I can rely on my my life. I thought Honey which one!!? My life is crawling with them!! I actually didn’t express that or do any jokes throughout the reading and took something seriously for once in my life. She also said that I should lean into the ‘weird, queer’ side of my creative practise. To that I say: No thank you, I am trying to be normal.
✤✤✤
16.03.24
I wrote that at 5pm in the office after spending the day alone listening to Emo music. As I was writing it, Eric sent me a message that said ‘come to main no? little wine?’. So I went to the main building and had a glass of wine with him and then I went and met Gabe at Fuchsbau where we had G&Ts like it was the summer, and I walked up to Atlas Cafe to have a quiche with Bella and I could see the crescent moon above our heads, and everything actually felt nice again.
Louis was lamenting on the phone how he’s found himself feeling the complete opposite about something he was recently relatively sure of. We were both were saying it’s really disorientating to feel so different from one day to the next; that it makes you think…. okay so I just can’t trust any feeling at any present moment? Which I think is true, but in a good and freeing way. Pat Regan once said on his podcast that he’s convinced our bodies just produce chemicals like dopamine and cortisol and hormones or whatever, and then our brain scrambles to attach stories to those chemical changes and make sense of them. So essentially not much of day-to-day ‘sadness’ or ‘happiness’ is true, but rather our brain’s best guess of what’s going on.
Also whatever. It’s half past five and I’m meeting Thea in an hour to go to ‘Aromatic Sound Bath - A Multisensory Dip’, then will see Theo to ‘have a drink with my friend’. Love life in all its general anguish. I’m coming out as fully being addicted to crosswords which I KNOW is very adorable and quirky so don’t bother telling me. They are amazing & reliable deliverers of dopamine, especially because I do really easy ones where sometimes the clues don’t even make sense, eg ‘Part of the head (3).’ to which the answer was Ear which is a bit like,….. I guess...? It’s certainly not the New York Times.
Love everyone soooo much
xxxxx