I had a really good week and so today I’m having a really sad and confusing day, as if I had to pay rent for joy.
A lot of what has brought me happiness recently is a constant movement of work, travel, and class followed by rest in which I can think, write, draw and read. This carefully built structure is tumbling and I feel like it will indicate something about who I am when it’s gone. Sometimes I wish I could speed up this gap year and have it as a memory, as proof, “look, at least for 7 months, I did something with my life that mattered”. But I only think this when I’m having a bad day. Good days vastly outweigh bad ones, so far.
Today I accidentally dyed my entire head purple
I swear the box was red
It burned my scalp as it permeated the wrong color on the hair I once Loved. Yes, Loved with capital L.
When I decided to wash it out the hot water stopped working
Today I took a cab in the middle of the rain and as I got off and tried to open my umbrella I stabbed myself in the neck, drawing blood and dropping my headphones on the road that then got smashed quickly by a bike.
Today I saw a kitten trapped on a roof, scared of heights. I saw it jump off the roof and then I heard silence.
Today any words spoken to me landed wrong.
Today hasn’t stopped raining and my data isn’t working. I’ve spent today horizontally, all of my potential plans thrown out the window.
Today my heart is on a different continent, my back lays on a different bed and when I close my eyes I see different people.
Today I lean into my sadness, settling into the metaphorical bathtub,
today I decide not to fake it.
I think I might be growing up. If I had read Cat Power’s biography a few years ago, I would have wanted to be her. A tortured soul, a genius. Just like I used to want to live my brother’s life, tempestuous and out of control, both sad and beautiful, chaos incarnate. As I read the book now I realize that I don’t want that anymore. It seems exhausting. I have stopped romanticizing breakdowns and I think it’s a sign that I’ve grown up.
You know how in some cultures, or countries, like France, they will use things like “a dash” when cooking?
I think the best way for me to describe India is by saying that they have no idea what “a dash” is.
Bollywood movies are endorphins in a bottle
"Trees take root and I thought I could too, if I had enough trees to learn from"