I don't do that anymore because I ironed it out of my personality. It was a sacrifice I made, to be more personable. I think it was the right decision. Nowadays my fingers ache and stiffen without any help. I crack my knuckles every other second just to manage anxiety.
It's been getting worse, because it's spread to my jaw. My jaw, it's become a bit restless. It twitches and stings in the daytime, it rolls and grinds in the night. I was grinding my teeth last night, and I wasn't even asleep yet. My jaw starts to waver and twitch when I'm struggling to manage my frustration.
I don't know why I decided to start writing this stuff down. I think it helps, but not in any ways that matter. I think, maybe I'm not giving it enough time, not looking at it from the right angle.
I'm a little trapped right now, in my life situation, but I think thats fine. As frustrating as it is, I think it's fine. I had $50 and I spent it all on essentials. Gas, Parking, Food. I feel like shit about it. I wish I wasted my money like I used to. My conviction towards lofty moralism is my undoing, I deprive myself of my little treatlerite tendencies. I haven't bought a Marvel Comic book in over 2 years. I don't expect a pat on the back, the cause is for people more in need than I ever will be.
I don't know. I'm not happy. I've forgotten all the little lessons in taught myself in college. I don't know how to talk to people anymore, I lost the eye contact balance. I keep having it so I either don't look at people in the eyes at any point, or I stare at them. It's never how I intend to be with others.
I haven't been able to take my estradiol in two weeks, and it's starting to affect my mood and my skin. The dysmorphia is back, in full force. I feel disgusting. I've been thinking that it's insulting to assert my identity as being at all legitimate in a public space. I don't want to be around my friends anymore, so I guess I've gotten over the anxious attachment problem.
The sickness would tell me, that it is better not to burden these good people anymore. I don't want to be around them because of a psychosis that's convinced me that I'm not worth the trouble, that I'm on a lesser level to my peers. It's self serious bullshit, this imposter syndrome. It doesn't help to acknowledge these things, it makes it more damning to know.
Let me give an example of the hysterics and unwellness that has become endemic in my mind. I met up with some friends two weeks ago to support their work. Never have I felt a stronger "I shouldn't be here" feeling than being in the auditorium of the ceremony. These two gorgeous talented people were willing to spend time with me, even if just for a moment. I felt wrong for having ever requesting their time or presence.
The problems with this mindset... where do I begin? What sticks out the most is that I'm just assuming nasty things about people that have done nothing to deserve being put in such an antagonizing position. The people I call my friends are good people, and I feel honored to have ever met them. I wish only good things for these people. I'll cherish the moments I've shared with them, even if I struggle with doubts regarding whether I should see them again.
I don't know. I've been keeping contact with Remas, so that is good. I'm working on new music, but I'm conflicted on the direction I should take. I also need more space to record vocals, so there's that.
I've gotten back in touch with Meredith about some new music. I'll be "on-call" for when she feels ready to deploy me as a feature. I've felt so embittered towards being an artist lately, I can't decide whether I should keep it up or not. I'm proud of my creations, and yet I feel burdened by them. I stand amongst my peers, and I cannot see any redeeming qualities about my body of work. In the presence of my peers, I see only my flaws.
I applied to 6 more jobs today. I don't even know why I do it. I already know they're gonna reject me. I'll apply to 150 jobs and get interviews for 2 of them, and I'll get neither of those two positions anyways. I have no money, I'm running on fumes. My family has me acting as their chauffeur/errand boy, and I'm not in a position to really complain about it anymore. It's really frustrating and degrading sometimes, but those are just feelings. Feelings don't really matter right now. I'm just whingeing now.
My parents aren't aligned in their stances on me right now, I don't know how to feel about it. My Dad misses me, my Mom is disappointed. My Mom tried to strong-arm me into enrolling at OCC, which I never actually agreed to do. There were follow-up steps I was supposed to do that I simply didn't do so that my fate wouldn't be sealed from cowardice. Dad misses making music with me, which I think is valid. I have mixed feelings about making music right now, and I found our previous collaborations to be a tad limiting. I feel like every time somebody reaches out to collaborate, their scope ends up being very narrow, and I don't get a lot of room breathe in the development.
Yale is starting up their encampments again. If the SJP ever makes a move on putting them back up in Michigan, I'll jump on that. It's perverse, that I would hijack a movement intended to stand up for innocent lives being taken in a genocide, in order to have a place of isolation to lie in, just for a little while.
Maybe I'm not a good person. For me, it's like a little preparation for the future. I've ideated a future where I live in my car, with the license plate removed. I've felt a warmth in the idea, that I could drive away to some kind of nowhere, and I could just lay in my car, and die. It seems like a fitting end.
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