Just a little bit.
Nothing profound or morose between the folds right now. It's all just being filled with song. All I can muster.
I wish I could message Bryan, I finally found those Educated Youth. And I am NOT of their number, let me tell you. Oh, that would be just a bit too sickly, as the critic could say.
I'm not going to allow myself the opportunity to fall into the same feeling. In this setting of bitterness, I invite a sensation of "invention." I have to write, and I will be piecing together visuals.
I want my...
I want my MTV...
That's all the kids like, let's be serious.
Water drippings from the storefront awnings, flashy signs in the untouchable city, the section I find myself wanting to lie down in once again. That's all they like.
For the first time, I actually think I understand Peaceful Night in the fuller sense. It's really something that never happens anymore.
I wish I could skip back to the Winter, but we don't get do-overs in life. No.
And... sometimes I wonder.
If I never spoke again, who would notice?
My sister would notice. My parents would notice. My friends down Woodward would notice. Zahr would definitely notice. Remas would notice. Manal would notice, after some time.
And in this feeling, I find who my family is. These people are my family. For them, I keep it all up.
I think I'm finished. I can stop now, with the searching. I don't need to look anymore. I don't need to try at validation anymore.
I don't need to perform. I'm setting that aside, I'll let that collect dust.
I'll put on my coat and go out into the lot and practice my set, for no one. That sounds like peace, to me.
I hate the memory that dredged up. That's life I guess.
The Cobo back lot, we're letting it happen. If I get arrested, that's just as well. Might as well give a tangible reason for the angels to fade from the picture.
I'm hoping that I can do better than last year. I'm not sure I'll make it to 24. I'm thinking I might be rash before I drop this project. The music in my ears is the only thing keeping me from attempting again, yknow. Frustrating.
It's all about income. It's all just money. None of these people are hiring really, but I'll keep applying. This job pays poverty wages, and so my mind is impoverished. Simple as. I gotta make more money. Capitalism wins this battle, y’know.
Ah, see that right there? That's why I could never join that national org. I'm not an optimist. We'll call the liaison figure, Mr Fantastic. Very flexible in their capability, I'm impressed with his leadership.
I remembered he extended an offer, and so did Evil Eye. That's what we'll call the guy I talked about last time. Mr Richard's offer was kind, more complimentary. Evil Eye's offer was also great, but since I never took him up on it, he's since looked at me with suspicion.
It's incredible how the reputation of mirrored Aviators has been tarnished by law enforcement. It is also very funny to imagine that some of these guys still have a very cinema-poised idea of what an undercover cop looks like. You've been watching too much Miami Vice, my good sir.
I don't write in what I would understand to be an obscure fashion, and yet I firmly believe that, if I was to place my writings in front of the eyes of the subjects of my musings, they'd be none the wiser towards my speculations. I know this is the case, because when I talk to these people in person, they don't really listen if I'm responding in kindness, in patience. People only pick up on bitterness from a person of my complexion and demographic. When people see a queer African American youth, they are expecting alienation and discomfort. People tend to respond better to my words when I play to their bigotry.
That is what I do in this blog, in fact. Much of my gait is driven by a sense of bitterness. It's something I'm looking to change. A dear friend once told me, she wishes she was a more well read person, so she might understand my writings better.
I believe she was, innocently, incorrect in believing the issue was her comprehension skills. No, it is because I write in a manner suited only to my psychology. It's not too good towards the sensibilities of my peers, who do not really know me. I'm not known by anyone, save for my family, and it is not my wish for this to be my life.
I will change. Here is everything I wrote here, but in communicative speech:
I was able to eat a small brunch today, so I'm feeling better.
I don't have anything deep or super depressing to write about today, because all I'm thinking about today is music.
It sort of feels like that's all I can manage to think about when I'm in this season of depression.
I've been blessed to make some new friends, all of which are very smart and caring young folks, most of which are in university. It's a shame that I don't feel like I fit in very well with most of them. Maybe I overestimated how good things could be for me in this stage of my life.
I don't want to write in the same way I did back when I first started writing this blog, it was so sad back then. I'm going to allow myself to express some new things in this entry, and I'm gonna work in some videos and promos later.
People tend to gravitate towards visuals quicker than sounds, in my experience. A lot of young people like things that feel relatable, that's sort of the "indie" ethos I've been avoiding.
Right now, I feel like I understand the meaning of the song Peaceful Night by Kino better, having persevered through this period of my life. Not sure I have too many peaceful nights in my head anymore.
I know that I felt better about myself in the winter, but we can't go backwards in life. Time keeps moving, yknow.
I tend to have a consistent sort of intrusive thought. I always wonder if anybody would notice if I dissappeared from life. I think my immediate family would, and my dear friends who live close by would notice. I think my friends in Gaza would notice, after some time.
I guess I'm just thinking about who my real family is. I think I'll be okay with these people in my life.
I don't need to try and keep up with these new faces anymore. I don't think I'll achieve anything great by trying to make new friends these days.
I don't think I'm gonna bother trying to perform my music for an audience anymore. It's not meant to be.
Ill take myself up on my idea of doing a busking DJ set in the rear parking section of Cobo Hall. I'll put on a coat and brave the cold night to do what I have always wanted to do, just for me.
That reminded me of a bittersweet memory. That's life.
I'm gonna play the Cobo Hall back-lot, just watch. If I run into trouble with the cops, that'll be fine. That'll give all the pretty girls a good reason to get off of me, lmao.
I hope that my life isn't so painful in 2026. I am feeling like my suicidal feelings might get the better of me before I turn 24. I might make some reckless life decisions before I release my album, y'know. Music is the only thing that keeps me alive.
My life wouldn't be so sad if I made more money. Money really does solve everything, doesn't it? I guess capitalism is getting the better of me.
That sort of pessimistic outlook is why I'm not cut out to join the big socialist organizations. The guy who first suggested I join his, we have to create another epithet for their anonymity. We will call him Mr Fantastic, or Reed Richards. Because he's such a flexible leader, honest.
He extended an offer, but so did this other Nat'l member, who I believe is very threatened by my presence in the local organization I've already joined. I call him Evil Eye, because of his glare.
I think he assumes I must be a cop because I wear mirrored Aviators and speak with my chest. Maybe he doesnt know, but most cops aren't like the ones in Miami Vice. I'm what they call a transsexual socialite, it's normal to feel threatened by somebody of my demographic.
I try to write in a way that is most genuine to what I'm really thinking, but sometimes I think if I showed my writings to the people I'm writing about, they would have no idea this is about them. I feel this is true because of how alienated I feel when trying to talk to people in real life.
I find that those of more Protestant/Heteronormative backgrounds tend not to take seriously the more meaningful/kind words of people who belong to social groups they don't give a shit about.
People will only listen to what I have to say if I say it in a way they associate with black people and trans women. People who might see themselves as "woke" would generally prefer if I speak more aggressively, yknow. They would like if I seem more bitter and rough.
In this blog, I've a tendency to write in a manner that plays on that stereotype. A lot of why I write the way I do is to intently go against that expectation, to deny close minded people the ability to understand what I'm thinking.
A dear friend once told me she wishes she was better at reading, so she might understand my blog posts better.
I don't think the problem is her literacy, I think she's fully capable in every sense. It is my fault for writing in a way that is so "deep in the pocket" all the time. I tend to write in a way that only makes sense to me. It doesn't contribute well to deepening my friendships, because I feel like so few my friends really know me at all. I don't want my life to be like that.
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I won't be doing that again. From this framework, see if you can't parse more thoroughly the pages of my previous entries. You might learn something of me you might not like ;)
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