void98 / juhi ♫( -_・) ︻デ═一  ▸



hey everyone/no one, i'm back, streaming from the bottom of the ocean, the lowest of the low...today i thought: "grin and bear it!" well, at least now i can grin...
i wouldn't go so far as to say my life is in shambles, but i will say the past few weeks have been farcically bad for me, put me in a real funk. sorry to everyone i haven't responded to, again, im trying to pick up the pieces but im moving kind of slow...
last week i drank some leftover bhaang and went with my cousin to get boba, and when we were standing in the ridiculously slow line at t4 i suddenly felt like a gunman was going to come in and shoot us all dead, targeting asians or what have you...i got so freaked out i had to leave and sit in the car with the doors locked
a few days ago i had a panic attack about dying, i totally freaked out, but i read that thanatophobia is stronger in your 20s, and is often triggered by the death of someone close to you, and that doesn't really make any of it better, but maybe sitting with the discomfort is healthy. i thought, what if when we die, we stay in our bodies, and did my dad feel like he was being burned alive in a small box at the crematorium? if i am cremated, will i scream for help trapped in my futile body while they light me on fire? i looked up the other things you can do with your body, and turns out you can be made into soil, and that calmed me down enough for me to fall asleep.
i feel grateful for the return of function to my mouth. i revisited the handouts from my therapist on envy, like homework, like studying for a class on how to be a functional person. it says, count ALL your blessings - do not exaggerate your shortcomings or discount what you have...i am thankful for a healthy, pain-free body, and i am lucky, because i would be the world's worst patient...
it seems recently like i can't shake this feeling of being an alien, i feel like i'm 14 again and the world is so big and i am trapped and alone. and everyone else does things and i can't do those things, and why, what did i do wrong? i know its ugly to feel sorry for yourself like this but i can't help it. i wonder if my brother feels this way all the time. i wonder if he knows that i feel this way too.
yesterday i fell asleep listening to wharf rat, today im listening to fugazi. all i do is try to be a good person, and do what's right, and help people, and for what? every day i tuck my grandma in at night, every day i stare into the immortalized eyes of my dead father, every day i eat my feelings, every day i am rocked by the turbulent boat that is life. im just trying to get ahold of myself, why is it so damn hard?
when i was in high school, i was so angry and misunderstood. all i had was my music, my journal, myself. i wasn't in control of my time, i didn't have relationships with people i felt good about, and i was trapped inside the four walls of my insane, dangerous, chaotic house. all i had was to look inward, which drove me crazy, but it was all i had. when i left home (maybe earlier, when i fell in love for the first time) i was so excited for this new life that had previously been denied to me: freedom, liberty, fun, unbridled creativity, hedonism. smoking a 5 ft long j in the wine cellar of a mansion in pac heights at a post prom party. playing guitar naked on the deck of my ex's house in west marin on shrooms. getting high as shit with my friends in the empty parking lot of a business park. yeah, i guess a lot of it involved drugs, but also a lot of it was sober. when i moved away to chicago i felt so determined to seek out this life, catch up on my missed years, of love, sex, chaos, genuine friendship, doing whatever i wanted to do. somehow in that pursuit (and in the desire to be socially accepted/successful) i gave up my interior life completely, or at least it was subsumed by the overstimulating social environment of college. when you can dissect everything with friends over dinner right after it happens, there's no need to keep a journal, and i didn't, despite religiously keeping one for 5 years prior. my impending and inevitable existential crisis lasted more than a year, and it just seemed like i couldn't grasp anything that in any way felt like it resembled my identity. quarantine helped that, being forced to just sit with myself for so long made me realize, that, indeed, i did have a self, there was someone there.
anyway, now i feel self-loathing, but i also feel loathing towards others, some genre of misanthropy, and really its welcome, familiar almost. everyone (but not you, friend, reading this) can just buzz off. im going to work on my ceramics, and set up my studio, and finish my mural, and get really good at DJing, and also paint my mirror. 'i am responsible for my own happiness'...trying to think about what my therapist would say. 'worry about things in your control'...easy for you to say, Charese. wonder if the dead have any words of wisdom for me...
"sometimes the light's all shinin' on me...other times, I can barely see..."
like always – "the sun will shine in my back door someday..."


Im sick of being a we guy, I think im going to try on being selfish for a change. like when I decided I was going to be mean in the fall of 2019, when I was like that's it, im so tired of being so nice all the time and for what? for who? im the idiot...I just want to do my things and for myself. I just want to hang out with my mom. I hate scrolling through my email. I hate feeling yanked in all directions by life and others. I dont care about the stupid BA show or 'GRAM WORTHY OUTFIT INSPO and what is a woman-led food hall, anyway? sorry to all the people I haven't responded to, im in extreme physical pain and also im going through it, maybe im emo or maybe these are the signs of opiate addiction, I can't keep any of it straight anymore...Jon says being emo is sick, spoken like no one who's actually been emo before...im sick of everyone, I dont want to deal with it anymore, and for the record, 600mg of ibuprofen and 700mg of acetominophen makes me feel sicker than all the codeine in the world, so take that everyone, im team Big Opium now, and I want to crawl out of my skin, this wisdom teeth saga is just never-ending, and I feel like the ant that I accidentally burned alive in my salt water rinse yesterday. im inured to the taste of blood and I want to take up kickboxing, and I keep thinking about the final scene of scarface, on loop in my head like a GIF.

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