do you ever feel like your hands don’t work? like there is so much space between you and everything you touch? do you feel your hands closing up as soon as they touch something soft? something that feels like skin? like those roly-poly bugs i used to torture when i was a child?
just finished salt by nayyirah waheed and i had read bits and pieces of it before but as a complete work it is absolutely stunning and i love it a lot.
sometimes things get lonely. i miss being with people. really with them. my insomnia and my pain keeps me in this fog all the time. my brain feels heavy. making art is getting harder. talking is getting harder.
“The first time I tried it was in junior year of college. I bought it from some guy in the library. I was in acting school, and there was so much pressure put on our senior year showcase. The pill gave me so much energy. I remember making a seven-page spreadsheet of all the agents in New York, including their address, specialty, and preferred method of contact. Adderall gave me an ‘in’ to caring. It’s so hard to be an actor in New York. You have to want it so badly. But I’d always struggled with depression and lack of motivation. I thought I’d finally found the solution. I just went to the psychiatrist and told them I needed a prescription. It was so easy to get. It went from every week, to every other day, to every day. I built my life around it. It got to the point where I’d never leave the house or coffee shop. I wasn’t even getting real work done. I was just doing random shit. I’d write songs, tinker with my website, and send random messages to people I hardly knew. I wasn’t sleeping. I hardly ate. And the moment I stopped taking the pill, I’d feel disgusting. I was destroying my body. But the thing about Adderall is, if you don’t tell anyone, nobody really knows. From the outside it just looks like you’re motivated and working hard. But you’re horribly addicted. You look like you. But it’s not really you.”
spiderman is so fucking funny dude saves like an entire country and then he goes home at the end of the day and opens his fridge and hes got like 1 egg and a half empty can of arizona tea no matter how old he is or what comic hes from thats just how peter parker lives
Ceramic Flowers, August 2018.
Jude Johnston, Untitled
Arnaud Lajeunie for Odiseo No.6
pacific rim really is THAT movie……stunning visuals…..aliens…..gay scientists….what more could you ask for, really
it’s 2am. i’m sitting in my home library in an overstuffed chair while tea steeps in ceramic mug i made in pottery class. the air smells like wood and soap. a dog lays in the corner snoring. from the desk i hear the pop and crackle of a baby monitor. i’m wrapped in a thick mustard colored cardigan and soft flannel pants. i work on my novel from home and can sleep whenever i want. my partner wakes up and comes in to give me a kiss on the forehead. i sip my tea and watch the sunrise over the mountains while snow falls slowly. i’m at peace and warm and happy.
i am in this weird state that i always manage to find myself in between christmas and new year’s where time feels even less tangible than it normally does so i’m going to mull over some thoughts about my christmas under the cut.
my insomnia sometimes give me small gifts. quiet moments with myself after i tuck my love into bed and i get to come out to the living room and write or sketch while i watch law and order. i miss not being able to sleep sometimes, i miss curling up next to him and feeling safe in my bed. but the ritual of putting him to sleep is comforting to me. and it’s nice to know that he’s safe.