rest
A peculiar thing happened when I came home to Venice last week that everything was resolved within me, and I was no longer suffering. In England I had been breaking down in private off and on, getting by through excercize and stabilizers. I was still thinking about my brother. I had been away from my boyfriend for months, I was seeing someone else, a silent-type Polish boy, and wasn't sure I cared. For a long time I had no desire to write. I was unimpressed by Oxford. I was disgusted by how aristocratic the student union was, and disgusted for being ungrateful. Still I was smiling and networking. The vision of tailcoats, old libraries and oil paintings was true. These are all very good things that can easily be horrible.
I can know everything I think I know. I can be aware of a variety of concepts. But it is one thing to know something and another to feel it is true. "It has nothing to do with you. Nothing that happened does." Smart people have been saying this for a long time. "Of course, that's obvious. I know."
Now I am not sure I can know a thing without feeling. But suddenly I feel as though I've digested it. I understand now. It isn't me, it isn't my future. I am meant for great things, and it isn't arrogant to say so. Many people are. Two weeks ago I was in the East End of London at a club owned by Vice magazine. Some new friends took me upstairs to see a German noise band. They were all doing what they wanted to do: one had just started her own magazine, another was a photographer, another a music festival organizer. They were all great people, all glowing white lights.
"You're so unkind. That's not how you were acting when you met Jim on 5th & Broadway for your inspiration." Someone said this to me this morning and I felt calm. I understood what he said to me isn't a part of who I am. What he does to me isn't what I deserve, it doesn't wait for me in months to come. It's laid to rest, the bright future is ahead.
I can know everything I think I know. I can be aware of a variety of concepts. But it is one thing to know something and another to feel it is true. "It has nothing to do with you. Nothing that happened does." Smart people have been saying this for a long time. "Of course, that's obvious. I know."
Now I am not sure I can know a thing without feeling. But suddenly I feel as though I've digested it. I understand now. It isn't me, it isn't my future. I am meant for great things, and it isn't arrogant to say so. Many people are. Two weeks ago I was in the East End of London at a club owned by Vice magazine. Some new friends took me upstairs to see a German noise band. They were all doing what they wanted to do: one had just started her own magazine, another was a photographer, another a music festival organizer. They were all great people, all glowing white lights.
"You're so unkind. That's not how you were acting when you met Jim on 5th & Broadway for your inspiration." Someone said this to me this morning and I felt calm. I understood what he said to me isn't a part of who I am. What he does to me isn't what I deserve, it doesn't wait for me in months to come. It's laid to rest, the bright future is ahead.