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SHOULDER CHECK!
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i smoked a cigarette and i wasnt even that drunk
there were a few things i wanted to write about today but theyre lost to me now and i wish i at least wrote down the general Idea. but i've at least noticed that ive been actively Indulging in more...taboo? things i wouldn't normally or were too scared to try. i've smoked two cigarettes this summer (woah!), had two shroom trips (WOAH!), had sex with a man for the first time (JEEZ!!), i'm smoking weed more often (hmmm....), and i'm thinking of testing the waters with (recreational?) adderall. this is not to say that i'm going downhill, or self sabotaging, or actively trying to harm myself and others. in fact, i quite like this sort of indulgence i'm in. let me do some unhealthy things right now. i don't think i Deserve it but i just....idk...i kinda need it?
i've always been in this need for control--to have it, to be in it. it's very hard to do new things that way because i don't know what i'm getting into. i'm at the whimsy of the uncomfortable zone. i focus too much on the potential negative of a situation: i'm going to have a bad trip, i'm going to make a bad drawing, i'm going to humiliate myself because i am New To This. and that's where i lack grace and freedom and embracing the Fun of being new.
it sucks that being new at something, trying new things, meeting new people, putting yourself out there in some capacity makes me feel like a burden. if i'm not the responsibility of someone else (i.e. a supervising coworker, a babysitting friend, an experienced lover) then i'm a burden to my own ego. even if i'm alone in my room trying to shake my ass i still feel incredibly embarrassed by my own reflection. seeing such failure (seeing my own body) is maybe worse than sharing it with someone else. there's a humor in that vulnerability that brings me closer to whoever i'm sharing that with: coughing while smoking a cig, readjusting on a dick, spilling a nutcracker in your hair while tripping on the beach are all moments that, while silly and messy and unprepared, bring me closer with the person on the other side of that. it shows a little bit of humanity and humility.
that is not extended to moments with myself though. i dont really know how to fully explain it. maybe it's some degree of not being comfortable with myself or perfectionist problems i have and self-perception etc etc etc. but have you ever failed yourself so hard you don't even want to try again? there is no one else to laugh along with you or reassure you or empathize. when i fail myself, I Fail Myself. yknow? ehhh not really something i want to think about further.
random things i have Happy Feelings for:
came home last night after being in a weed comatose at nat's and hammered nails into my walls so i can hang my belts. it was a random spurt of energy that got something i wanted done but for some reason never tried to do in my free time (i realize i am wayyyyy too adaptable to my own traps of inconvenience. i put the bag of toiletries in my room to Force Me to unpack them and ultimately left it in the way for a couple weeks before just stuffing the whole bag in the closet.)
really liked todays episode of the sopranos: s1e12. junior and tony both deal with mortality in different ways. not much more to say on it right now
also between this episode ^ (isabella the madonna hallucination), honestly themes of the show in general, and watching contrapoints content i've gotten a little interested in reading more about freud LOL. he kinda makes a lot of points??? like we all know this we're just freaked out about the mommy sex stuff. there's a tangent contra video on gamergate and an article she sourced talked about Gamers feeling threatened about their Space, their Games, being taken away by The Woke Mob--AKA women, aka MOMMY. the looming fear of mom coming in your room and saying it's time to stop playing. getting grounded and no video games for a week. mom said it's my turn to use the xbox. that fear recurring in these sad adult men being forced to look at their own flaws. their lack of perspective. stupid sluts coming in and ruining the fun, taking away our games. i found that psychoanalytic perspective reallllllyyyyy interesting
finding a new perspective on chores and self care: there's no rush with it. this is not a thing that needs to be Taken Care Of right this second. my whole evening should be dedicated to doing things on My Terms. i spend 40 hours of my week, every week, doing things on another entity's terms. i do shit when i wanna!!!! and it's for ME!!!!
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first...second...second first
it's funny that every time i think about writing i never really know what to say. i don't remember making this account in 2018, or writing for the first time on here. i've gone back and forth between journaling--where to do it, if it's even helping me--and there's a strong chance that i'll move on from this just like the other journals and modes of expression.
i've just been kinda uninspired. i fear that i wasnt born to be an artist. i dont think i Do enough. i dont really photograph. nothing really inspires me anymore. i'm kinda worried that new york's tap has run dry, but i dont think it's effective to blame the city i live in instead of myself. this has been a problem of mine for years now. why is it so hard to express yourself?!! i feel like i have a lot in me and yet no way to show for it. i dont know if i have a good work life balance. i dont know if thats even the problem? it's just.....so easy to do nothing....? but it doesnt make me happy??? but i keep doing nothign anyway??? maybe THIS is the first step to that. there's a bit of ego in making this. like. diary public. though i dont really think anyone will see it (and i don't care (but i will tag this anyway and maybe check if it gets any notes)). but i dont mean it to be egotistical.
i am a product of post internet use. i grew up expressing myself online. i was on facebook in fifth grade, tumblr in middle school, wattpad/ao3 and stan twitter in high school, art school in college, and back on twitter as a young adult. there has never been a point where i wasn't trying to put myself out there somehow, to be seen and shared and agreed with or admired or congratulated or impressed by. this pressure To Be Seen at 24 feels the most strong. the strongest ever felt. everywhere all the time i see and am told that i have so much time and that 20s are just the beginning. but it doesnt feel that way at all. it LOOMS over me. life shouldnt be Established but it should be.....Impressive? thats the second time i used impressive in this post so thats some subconscious thing going on there. But much of life right now is waking up, going to work, hating work, coming home, sitting on the couch until it's time for bed (which i either fall asleep right there or lazily flop into bed--and consequently miss taking my antianxiety meds), and then i wake up all over again. there's nothing to really show for. i don't feel like an interesting person. i dont feel like i do enough for myself. i guess i have a fear that i will be in this cycle for so long that one day it's 20 years later and nothings reallllllly changed. like. fundamentally.
i cannot think that far ahead. i have no ten year plan, 5 year, one year, 6 months...but i will be a fucking doomer about myself every chance i get. it's, of course, easier to catastrophize in the moment. lower expectations = less chance of disappointment! i think it's also interesting that the only things i really journal about are negative thoughts. wtf is that about. i'm not even necessarily unhappy right now.
things that make me feel Happy:
having enough food in the house that i can make something without having to go out or order in
laying in the sun on the beach after getting bodied by waves
creme soda
when i'm wearing a dress and dont care about my underwear showing (i like to spread! im sitting knees up at my desk right now!!)
catching someone i like looking at me (does it mean anything extra if they're drinking something at the same time....? and they don't break eye contact...?)
customizable internet--the past now....i remember when tumblr was a WEBSITE more than an APP. we must free ourselves from The Profile.
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first
I’m not sure why I made this. The space key on my keyboard is mysteriously sticky, and the journal I’ve had since sophomore year of high school is on my night stand--writing doesn’t need any extra forced press on the space key (but it does need the ability to hold a pen, which I tend to lose every summer). Maybe I wanted to practice writing more; I’m taking a writing class in the fall, might as well get a head start, right? Maybe I just wanted my writing to look beautiful, so why not make a tumblr with a pretty theme, a lovely home for my thoughts and my thoughts only. You can’t get that with a journal; yeah, there’s something special about the actual written word, but sometimes aestheticism comes before emotivism. Who even knows if I’ll follow through with this--it might just be another phase of wanting to be someone I’m not: someone who has drive to do what they want and does it coolly. That took a depressing turn--no, it’s being honest. If I want to make changes with myself I need to accept what is ‘depressing’ and find a solution. Maybe seeing the physical word of what I want will make me follow through with it. Hm. I’ll get back to it.
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