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I was happy in the city

I think I mess up with updating this thing when I think about how the posts should come up chronologically, and honestly, it probably doesn’t have to. I don’t care, you don’t care. We’re all just plodding along life, as it were.

Like, I don’t think I want to keep writing in this if it’s going to just be a litany of posts that go “Oh, yeah, and this happened,” you know? Sometimes I think that I’ve forgotten how to think, which is silly, but entirely possible. If you asked me what I did the day before yesterday, I’m not sure I’d really know what to tell you.

(I paused and thought about it, and I did laundry and went to class, which was about Judith Butler and feminism and gender and materialism, which was amazing, but also disappointing because not a single male classmate showed up. Which, I understand, has more to do with the level of Other Things they had to do than, like, a statement or whatever. But still.)

Today, however, is a Thursday. And I went to help out at the VE studio, which is what I do on most Thursdays, and it was nice because they told me how helpful it was when I’m around and that I smelled nice and that my lipstick was nice. It was also nice (!) that I had a bowl that I always “build” and get when I’m here (brown rice, tomatoes, kale, red onion + tahini) and that I’ve been thinking about for a while, since I, in theory, can only get it on Thursdays. It was also nice because there was a labrador on my train here (it got off at Paddington station) and also because there was a pug (named Osc/kar?) in the studio, who was vacuuming the floor with his snout but also let me pet him.

I think I’ve mostly been thinking about where I fit in the world, a little bit. Which sounds a little ridiculous? Like a vague, pa-deep/pa-profound thought plopped in the middle of a running list of mundane everyday things, but really, that’s where I am situated most of the time, I think. Not a bad place to be, just a little anxious about trying to lasso in all the disparate pieces that I feel like I’m holding onto.

I’ve been really distressed about it. So much so that I wrote to St. Vincent about it, appealing for an answer, Libra to Libra. (It’s a thing, I’m not crazy.) I guess part of me knows that I don’t have to know, but also part of me is a super controlling freak who has to know exactly what is going on, just because.


A) Packaged coconut… super sad. B) Me, dressed not like a 12-year-old. For once!

But I guess it’s also a bit silly to treat the situation as though, if I know or find out, then I’d be at peace and know what to do. Because I know that’s not true. Maybe it would be actually a little more damaging to know where you’re at but not have any control over it. And I say maybe, but I know that that’s what’s going to happen. Knowing you don’t have any control over something you’re worried about doesn’t mean you stop worrying about it.

So maybe, this place of obliviousness is a good thing? IDK. I think I’m just trying to sort through life stuff as they come… and I think I’m not doing a very good job… but I also think that maybe not a lot of us are. And that sounds sad, but I think I’m at a point where I’m ready to take a little bit of comfort in that.


P.S. Happy Pride from our laundry line πŸ’˜