(no subject)
i feel so much. i feel too much. i am overwhelmed by the majestic burden of being a human, a person. but also there's an overwhelming opportunity. it can either frustrate or invigorate me; either way it inspires emotion and isn't that my own definition of art? the struggle of humanity is art. i need to admit the fucked-up-ness of the world but also admit that i do have colossal power to bring about change. the fact that we each have that power is what makes life beautiful.
he did the most peculiar thing the other night. we were standing side by side in a loud, crowded room. he was telling me something, and as he leaned toward my ear he put his hand on the back of my head. his thumb moved almost imperceptibly to stroke my hair, just once or twice. i keep thinking about that motion. i wonder if it was a conscious action. i wonder if i'm setting the same trap for myself as always by over analyzing everything and worrying that people are misreading me. i wonder if he wondered how soft my hair was. i wonder if it was as soft as he may have hoped. i wonder if he's thought about that moment, if he's thinking about it now. i wonder why it would matter if he were.
day five of partying and hanging out with the neighbors is also day five of sobriety. i'm not quite sure how i feel, although i have also increased my water intake so it isn't a very controlled experiment. i feel slightly more energized. i feel much more positive. i feel frustrated that i have yet to uncover the best way to talk to my formerly close friends. i am overwhelmingly happy at the closeness of new friends: marlina, juliette, danny....i love the people i live with and i really enjoy coming home. i'm excited to see what happens next. i really want to wake up tomorrow, because i'm sure i'll have an adventure.
and i may not have someone to fall asleep with at the end of the day, but we can't win them all. or can we? i have myself. what a treasure, this human body; this cognizance. i am disappointed by my humanity but i am amazed by the machine. nicole and i were talking about skin today. how amazing is it that what holds us together is full of holes, dirt, hair, and oils? how much would i weigh if i were able to remove every blackhead from my body? would my face actually be smaller if i could get all the gunk out of my pores? my skin has been awful lately. i blame long hair and cigarette smoke. i bought a wonderful peppermint soap that makes my whole body tingle when i take a shower. i love to wash my face and feel the skin glow with cleanliness. it's endlessly refreshing.
my favorite sensation in the world is to shower with peppermint soap, then jump under the covers with nothing on my flesh but my fuzzy green blanket. it's best on an august afternoon when the air is hot but the sheets are cool, and the sun sets early so your midday nap has a port wine backdrop. these moments, these tingly sensations, are why life is worth living. i'm so sorry i had forgotten.
the cataclysm for me was david's advice. he said, "would you say any of this to another victim? what would you tell them? why do you refuse to treat yourself like a victim?" the word leaves a bad taste in my mouth, like an admission of weakness. but i realized in that moment that it's okay to admit that i was once weak, that i was once held in a situation out of my control. now i am older, stronger, smarter, and absolutely the master of my fate. i was in a bad place, and i grew past it. i should only encourage myself. that's exactly what i would do for any one of my friends. i realized in that conversation with david that everything i was so mad at my friends for not giving me was also what i forgot to give myself. i need to love myself, support myself, believe in myself. i need to take pride and interest in my writing, rather than waiting for others to acknowledge my efforts. i need to treat myself like a victim because i am, because admitting it is the first step to recovery, because this is the only way to grow.
i am a victim.
i was a victim.
now i am me.
let it happen.
he did the most peculiar thing the other night. we were standing side by side in a loud, crowded room. he was telling me something, and as he leaned toward my ear he put his hand on the back of my head. his thumb moved almost imperceptibly to stroke my hair, just once or twice. i keep thinking about that motion. i wonder if it was a conscious action. i wonder if i'm setting the same trap for myself as always by over analyzing everything and worrying that people are misreading me. i wonder if he wondered how soft my hair was. i wonder if it was as soft as he may have hoped. i wonder if he's thought about that moment, if he's thinking about it now. i wonder why it would matter if he were.
day five of partying and hanging out with the neighbors is also day five of sobriety. i'm not quite sure how i feel, although i have also increased my water intake so it isn't a very controlled experiment. i feel slightly more energized. i feel much more positive. i feel frustrated that i have yet to uncover the best way to talk to my formerly close friends. i am overwhelmingly happy at the closeness of new friends: marlina, juliette, danny....i love the people i live with and i really enjoy coming home. i'm excited to see what happens next. i really want to wake up tomorrow, because i'm sure i'll have an adventure.
and i may not have someone to fall asleep with at the end of the day, but we can't win them all. or can we? i have myself. what a treasure, this human body; this cognizance. i am disappointed by my humanity but i am amazed by the machine. nicole and i were talking about skin today. how amazing is it that what holds us together is full of holes, dirt, hair, and oils? how much would i weigh if i were able to remove every blackhead from my body? would my face actually be smaller if i could get all the gunk out of my pores? my skin has been awful lately. i blame long hair and cigarette smoke. i bought a wonderful peppermint soap that makes my whole body tingle when i take a shower. i love to wash my face and feel the skin glow with cleanliness. it's endlessly refreshing.
my favorite sensation in the world is to shower with peppermint soap, then jump under the covers with nothing on my flesh but my fuzzy green blanket. it's best on an august afternoon when the air is hot but the sheets are cool, and the sun sets early so your midday nap has a port wine backdrop. these moments, these tingly sensations, are why life is worth living. i'm so sorry i had forgotten.
the cataclysm for me was david's advice. he said, "would you say any of this to another victim? what would you tell them? why do you refuse to treat yourself like a victim?" the word leaves a bad taste in my mouth, like an admission of weakness. but i realized in that moment that it's okay to admit that i was once weak, that i was once held in a situation out of my control. now i am older, stronger, smarter, and absolutely the master of my fate. i was in a bad place, and i grew past it. i should only encourage myself. that's exactly what i would do for any one of my friends. i realized in that conversation with david that everything i was so mad at my friends for not giving me was also what i forgot to give myself. i need to love myself, support myself, believe in myself. i need to take pride and interest in my writing, rather than waiting for others to acknowledge my efforts. i need to treat myself like a victim because i am, because admitting it is the first step to recovery, because this is the only way to grow.
i am a victim.
i was a victim.
now i am me.
let it happen.